Monday, 26 September 2016


Two sat in the park bench with their back
Not to have a departing meet; as their eyes were full pack
Fell like a drew drop, it was their tear drop
Both felt same and shame to speak up.
Butterflies, kites and balloons in colours
But these two are in dark shadows of each others
Trying to forget; they are remembering all
Unable to see; their dream castle fall
Everything was rolling,
Tears, time and tryst.
Thought of lasting rendezvous
But this was their last.
This park was their temple of love
Receiving signals from the love-birds in the grove
Dulcet was their language of love
Promising pillars were laid for future trove.
All crushed down to dust in this park
All against their nuptial
Unable to convince all; not to have a black mark
             They together left the park to make a two different walk

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