Thursday, 18 October 2012

Part 3: Love is Immortal

(Dedicated to myself, as a reminder of the immortality of Love.)

He had been betrayed,
His life needed to end.
For how could he live much longer,
With the pain he had suffered,
At the hands of a heart so cold.

All he wanted now,
Was to see her one last time.
Tell her that he would not spread the pollen.
That he would rather die,
Than help her kind multiply.

And so he went to meet her.
But once there, he was shocked and despaired.
She had withered black,
Her colors lost, her petals fallen.
She lay before him, dead.

She had withered that morning,
He'd been too late in coming.
He sat there weeping for their souls.
Hers for having tricked him into love,
And his for having let her die alone.

But now that she was dead,
Nothing mattered anymore.
His hatred melted away,
Withered away like her petals.
His complaints eloped with her laughter.

And all that remained,
Was a lonely beetle,
With precious memories of love.
Love that she had given him,
But could give him no more.

Now only two stood there weeping,
Atop her shriveled remains.
Love and He.
And Love said to him,
Seeing how he had lost all hope.

Do you truly believe,
That love can be faked?
That someone's heart could be that cruel?
You have listened to fear and that was your biggest mistake.
For he will tell you bitter truths that'll get you nowhere.

Listen to my tales instead,
Though the world may insist,
That they be lies,
That they be twisted,
Atleast they won't kill you with their bitterness.

She used you, it's true.
But that she loved you,
Is a greater truth.
She did what she did,
Only because she had to.

She had no choice.
But you are different.
You have a one.
You may forget her,
curse her, or end your life.

Or you may instead,
Forgive her crimes,
And listen to your heart,
To do what may be difficult,
But more importantly, what may be right.

He wept a lot, but in the end, took Her advice.
He had known what true love was,
How it had changed his life.
And now he wished for the world to know,
To know that love divine.

He went around the jungle,
Out to its far reaches,
And spread her pollen,
Wherever he could.
Till he had exhausted all that he had.

Months passed,
And he lived on.
He lived only for her,
Tending the buds that had appeared,
On plants he had pollenized.

He gave them his love and care.
And he laughed at Love.
She had thought he had a choice.
But did he really?
Could he, when he was in love?

He had decided to wait only till next spring,
Once the flowers bloomed,
He would have done his duty.
He would not have let beauty die.
And then, he would be free.

Spring came and the flowers bloomed.
And he was reminded of her scent.
For the entire jungle,
Carried her fragrance now.
The jungle, filled with her joy and radiance.

And then he heard it,
The sound of her laughter.
The sound he had craved, for so long, unknowing.
Could it be possible.
After he'd lost all hope?

He rushed to the sound, and true enough,
There stood his sweet maiden.
More beautiful than ever,
Gracefully waiting,
Awaiting his return.

He realized then the power of Love.
Her power to change lives.
He knew not if She was a thief.
He knew not if She had planned this all along.
Or if his story was but a twist of of fate.

He knew not how his maiden,
Had come back to life.
He knew not what would happen now,
For how long she was alive.
He knew not if Love had cheated him.
He knew not if She had lied.
All he knew for sure,
Was that Love had never died.


1 comment:

  1. i had decided not to comment on the poem. i had thought i wud do it unless u wud request repeatedly , 'poem padhi kya?' in the same manner as i was asking 'poem likhi kya?'. but here it is.

    firstly, i wud like to congratulate you to writing an epic poem which breaks the boundary of traditional (read rhyming) poems. i guess saswata might scorn.
    your poem has a flow which is more important than rhyming.your metaphors, personification are good. i wud have loved it more if instead of three different stories, the poem had told just 1 story. this happens when u fail to predict wrongly the storyline of an upcoming poem. i suspect that u have made some changes just to avoid making your poem predictable from my perspective.
    i dunno know if gender of Love can be male ( which should be if seen from straight female perspective)