RedPaper.in – Poetry
By: Preeti Vyas | RedPaper.in
And then they lived happily ever after.
Well, they didn’t.
Why would they?
But the story always ends like this.
It started that way.
I won’t go into details.
But it is not a similar kind of story.
There are no romantic proses.
There is no cheesy glory.
It is what it is.
But the thing is, it stayed.
Rather than the ephemeral words of symbolism
There were actions which retained.
Sometimes they go too wrong.
Sometimes they are too right to be true.
Sunsets are sometimes an ecstasy.
Sometimes they have just dimmed hue.
The waves which they see
Sitting in the corner of the sea
Often defined their life,
And their random strange mysteries.
Anger, rage, and distress
They doom them again and again
But the thing is, they outlive them
Chuckling at each other’s lame games.
Situations are never the same,
It’s another level each day,
But who plays the game,
If there is no new stage.
Their story is not a shimmery diary
But it is a black slate,
Where you rub the chalk on the screen
And the old outlines remain.
How should I explain you?
It is too weird to put in threaded net,
There is love which exceeds the boundary,
And there is this old guy living whole life with his pet.