Oceans may part and skies may fall
But mediocre poets will always crawl
Till destiny makes them meet their lover
Or stumble and slither to their maker
Some fit the bill, some cut it just
Other succumb to sloth or lust
But most go unheard, die in anonymity
Often struggle - until death - with
mediocrity
But here’s a tribute to the unsung heroes
Who had but there heart and soul for the
curios
That rich could buy to the girls of the
city
And own their hearts with doe and ditty
Here’s a verse that calls all those
Who secretly wrote the pledged prose
Who revered a woman like there’s no
tomorrow
Yet compromised, and embraced the sorrow
That’s a part of them, innate inseparable
Till today from the vows through pigeons till
cable
And that will not be known to the world, as
With their grave was buried their sacred
word
The dystopian world where they lived
With their beloved when reality cribbed
Where love won and the world lost
Where sorrows accrued as the morning frost
Where wealth was measured in emotion
And disarming lovers decreed against commotion
That world alas couldn’t last
As reality ascertained its grip, jolly fast
Will never return, that jilted lover
The life of his beloved will see him hover
When she’s anxious or dwindles on stage
When the essence of marriage seems too
vague
When that abstract instinct seem so real
And reality of relation, becomes surreal
Yet bliss won’t resume and sorrows won’t
stall
Until oceans part… and skies fall.
~AbhishekM
