An evil eye spots them
It sees them canoodling
Its eyes bleed the colour of blood
And its face catches that of fungi.
Back in the days,
When love wasn’t synonymous
With the act of treachery
Two lovebirds came and perched on my lap.
One was the girl next door
The other a charming lad
She would hesitate while lifting her lashes
While he couldn’t resist peeking from beneath.
With a little mischiefs here and there
They quarrelled for the space
That belonged right under the tree shade
Or the one far from the water spout.
His excuse was to collect her tidbits
Hers was to take a stroll
Soon, they became frequent visitors
And I a constant medium for the same.
Out of all my guests
They happened to be my dearest
As I got to witness and devour
The purest emotion of all.
In order to serve them
With the best of my potential
I would fan myself diligently
When the rain showed no mercy on me.
Once she was sobbing
Draining all of her energy
Just then he came along
And entwined his breaths with hers.
On the contrary,
She poked his wounds,
Even when they’d turned into scabs
For the scars still remained.
It was never to trigger him
Or fiddle with his emotions
But it was to make him feel;
Make him feel how it is to feel.
Chapter 4 – Plot twist
Everything was going smoothly
And a lover’s tiff was usual
Until a garden wall full of creepers
Popped right out of the blue.
It was a third party
That couldn’t stand them as one
So it ignited a fire around the two
And pretended to be the extinguisher!
The plan worked accordingly
To what the extra human had in mind
And despite my sincere plea
They sought the path of destruction.
Everything had changed
As their egos turned into a new sense organ
Thus, they could no longer see the tolerance
Between the butterflies and the bees.
Now when her tears were evident
He looked past it, and when he did showcase
A decent amount of concern
It came out a bit ruthlessly.
Whereas for me it was like losing a leg
And being in a perpetual state of disequilibrium
Where winters occurred 365 days a year
And the fate of a rusted swing.
They lived happily never after.
They returned one fine evening
To collect what they had misplaced,
In the first place-
Their unsaid oaths of love.