What happened to the love birds? Read in this poignant poem by Komal Thami for #RomanticRendezvous for Unreturned Love.
Someone asked me,
What was love back then?
And I replied,
He was the needle, and I was the thread.
He stitched every parts of me with subtle care,
The more he stitched, the more I was healed.
Sometimes, it would poke me,
And I would bleed.
Then, after long lengthy nights,
We formed a beautiful pattern often known as love.
Love, that lasted for a year,
And, hailed the tsunami of mutual tears.
The two innocent boats were lost,
Only season they knew was frost.
The chirping birds never sang the old song,
They spent their lives with silent tongue.
How hard it was to bid farewell,
To the memories, which only prevail’d.
The hope of miracle was buried alive,
We as lovers were crucified.
Their love was like a dream,
To the world, who unheard their scream.
The wild wind blew the fragile petals apart,
An ice, layered across the frozen hearts.
Memories were white, but unkind,
Loose knots of friendship were untied.
Their patience never reaped the fruit,
The salty tears flooded all the routes.
Love, turned back with all frailty,
Destiny knew, well about this cruelty.
Decades after, a year came, when,
The ruthless time brought him again.
He asked me gently, if I’d loved him still?
My heart stopped, and my tongue was numb.
I recalled the cold December,
When love had lost its flavor.
I travelled down the memory lane,
And, I wanted to say yes.
If only, there was no law as such,
Love couldn’t be replaced.
There I see the old and feeble past,
With eyes’ same but vision apart.
I stare at him, but he stares at his love,
With wrinkles around and counting coughs.
His eyes blink the same, as it did in youth,
Time and again, love followed me as myth.
With buried hopes, lives faith,
My love shall be crowned after death.
We would be united in paradise,
And love, as we never died.
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