Rustic Beauty (A Duet)

 

Come runaway with me...

But my home is here.

Your home is my heart, dear...

But there's so much more to see.

Is my love not enough...

But I am more than my kingdom.

You want these treasures more than the simple stuffs.

But I wasn't born to love but to bloom.

But this bitterness turned into anger and resentment.

Your ego is more than your love.

I can't forgive your rejection with my devoted attachment.

And yet you choose to revenge, my Dove.

You were my muse, my angel, my queen.

And you were my rustic Beauty unearthed deeply within.

But all I see is a filthy bride betrothed to power.

And what you become is a powerless vile monster.

I will crush you til you are like powders.

I will burn you til you become charred.

And like powders to dust I will scatter you all over.

And like embers in the coals I will forever burn you and scourge.

Love that was once so true

Love that was doomed.

Scars is all that is left in blue.

Maimed us both in gloom.

Footnotes: 

Inspired by fictional characters that once were so deeply in love. But their ambitions and need for power caused them their happiness. So the once was lovers are now engaged in unending wars.  Their love was once so true that it became so pure... Pure hatred to each other. And no... Not even the burning coals of the dragons throat can tame the fury in their hearts.

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 And I thank all the forces and beings

For the sunsets, the dawns, and the rains.

That ripened me through the learnings.

And all I have to do is to share it to all the living.

Filthy

 Politicians and artists both have filthy hands.

The only difference is that, Politicians turn everything into chaos.

While on the other hand, Artists make everything beautiful... 

And so their hands are justified.

 Like a child so naive and proud... So you feel proud that you could actually walk not realizing you were actually depending your steps to those hands holding you. Until those hands suddenly let go of you. You were left there standing, not moving, but not because you cannot walk but because you are actually scared of taking another step without those hands. You are naive and dependent.  And you will always be, not until you take the first step all by yourself. And that would be your most courageous moment. The glory of independence is the prize of bravery.

Sunsets and Twilights

 I've known a thing or two.

About sunsets and twilights too.

They are beautiful goodbyes

Waving colours of darkening skies.

And I've pictured a thing or two.

About the 14 months we've been through.

I imagined thousands of sunsets with you

Sharing the beauty of sunrise too.

But as the dark covers the twilight, 

I still talk to the stars in the middle of the night

Saving prayers with your name in blue.

I maybe lonely but I'm happy for you.