Lying alone in a room so dark and cold,
Thinking of a story ages old,
A story known to man since the dawn of time,
A story known to the heart as a wicked crime.
The tale of lover and loved always starts the same,
Two souls apart, drenched in pain,
Then fate takes charge and rolls the dice,
Gazes are met as they stare into their eyes.
Each era had their own, A few are mentioned who are well known:-
Laila found Majnun, Salim saw Anarkali,
for Romeo a Juliette, Cleopatra had Mark Antony.
Love is blossoming and the world plays songs,
Even heaven appreciates this strong bond,
But then it happens as it had happened before,
Causing lover and lover to be together no more.
Hearts are young, the passion anew,
Then circumstances arise that bid adieu,
Separation from myself as separation from you,
The lover sits desolate as the other does too.
This is when tears are shed and happy endings denied,
For no love was ever eternal in its life,
With this he sits in a room so dark and cold,
His mind thinking of a forever more.
He thinks and thinks and thinks and thinks ,
He cries and weeps and is at his brink,
"Separation from you is as if separation from myself,
Without your presence in it, my existence is a void in itself."
Withthathewakesandwipeshistear,
Hestandstallandstrong, nomoreinfear,
A new hope is born, a warrior rises,
He wages a war against destiny's vices.
For far too long have lovers perished,
This new tale, all lovers shall cherish,
A battle waged for a millennia or two,
A battle fought hard but he was alone in his pursuit.
Coming to an end this battle of a millennia or two,
About to die, he whispered "I'll always love you."
"Look people look, here is a mad man, a crazy,
He thinks not, he fights, he's mentally lazy,
We told him to go, to move on with life,
But he never budged, couldn't stop thinking about his wife."
Then came a voice so strong and clear,
A voice that was for the lover, a rhythm to hear,
"But if you are to take the world's advice,
If you are to leave the person who was once your life,
If you listen to them, if you move on,
Then this is disposable, calling it love is wrong."
With that she held, a wounded hand,
She gripped it well and made him stand,
Together they were two and the world was one,
As it should always be, love had won.
Dedicated to my grandparents for their 52nd Wedding Anniversary
