Thursday, August 30, 2007

Because It Isn't.

"Goldfish do it in the privacy of their bowls", Ella croons,
'Falling in love' seems to be the tune
She swooned lovesick
Moping another woe of having been parted.
Don't hurry with your condolences,
Love departed, but hardly unrequited.
So they live their lives,
Separated by timezones,
And degrees of passion felt
Conjoined in the fact that they are
Souls redeemed, soulmates found,
Enough to make the most jaded, cruelest
To waver, and melt.
Because, other than a minor inconvenience,
Of timed phone calls,
And planned online trysts,
All seemed rosy.
Hues of youth's indiscretions.
And determined promises.
Pity though that they remain,
A fragment of imagination.
Am much of a cynic to be so naive,
To have not dawned upon the realisation,
Love so perfect,
And easy,
Without its own travails,
Is no love at all.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

There's nothing like an eclipse of the moon to bring out the tragic optimis love poet in us all :) Uncanny! Everyone seems to be blogging on the love and longing side. Better to have loved and lost than never have loved at all.

Love your work.

Anonymous said...

lovely words...I agree with your thoughts completely!
Very Nice!

P said...

@ chang'e
Must be the air.
And, thanks! Much.

@ Kalyan
thanks!! :)