From The Bard's Pen

What a piece of work is a man, how noble in reason, how
infinite in faculties, in form and moving how express and
admirable, in action how like an angel, in apprehension how like
a god! the beauty of the world, the paragon of animals—and yet,
to me, what is this quintessence of dust? Man delights not me—
nor woman neither, though by your smiling you seem to say so.

- Hamlet

Friday, January 27, 2012

A forgotten rose in a diary


Lending a yellow tinge to
the crimson words
it lies there forgotten.

Often I have dropped it,
misplaced it or left it behind..
Strangely it turns up
at the same page every single time.
Bookmarking the day
we lit candles for my god,
when I started believing that you
indeed were the One.

Many more pages I scripted
for love and loss,
watered them with my tears.
Yet you remained there
a silent observer...
No...
A voyeur.

I can just see that malice
in your fading petals
that herald the winter of my love.
Or perhaps it is just the scent you
leave behind on the pages
that have become one with you...
Chronicling a love forgotten

Just like a forgotten rose in a diary..

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