Dying Lotus

The long drives to no where, no end, no purpose
the valley of passion where they met and made love,
the hill looked down on them and kept the secrets of untold love
the river wept to eventually dry up due to the distress they had
the lush meadow whispering in that gentle breeze, a feeble melody
the green pond was as still as the midnight sky, brooding their fate
the stars were diamond pendants he dreamt ardently for her body
the shooting star appeared to him like a chain for her long tender neck
the honey bee was lost as all the honey was nowhere to be found
He saw a silhouette of her, the curly unruly hair and nothing else
her arms like a piano made love and music, drove him crazy
Eyes sharply piercing his heart, face hidden behind the cards she played with.
He looked for her everywhere; in the drive way,
in the forest, by the lake, at the meadow
he asked the hill but they kept their secrets
the dried up river was silent and aloof
She was hiding behind the veil of her madness
Drowned in a pool of tears which suffocated her
And when the morning dew was still afresh
He found her, saw her and conquered her
and he knew he loved her dearly
Her face was like a Lotus in a puddle of mud of sorrows, he told her
He could not resist but pluck her and cuddle her with his both hands
From then on, she was placed in his Vase of Love and his tears watered her

And there she remained, a dying lotus, enduring its slow death, happily ever after…

Published by Sapience

A mere weeping dot in the universe.

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