Long ago when the roses were red
Like your lovely lips of blood-like hue.
When you felt like an angel in a dream,
And just by your presence, I felt so new.
When your hair felt darker than the Devil’s heart,
And your heart felt whiter than spirits dear.
My thoughts just wandered by seeing your eyes,
My heartbeat played mayhem when you were near.
And every sunshine seemed a little more bright,
And all of Nature played a melody.
When Love seemed to start from every smile,
And add to my strength, like a flourishing tree.
When I felt I had a reason to live,
Like God had answered all my prayers out loud.
When my every problem seemed big enough,
To be the silver line behind the cloud.
When Hate disappeared out of my life,
And Love filled the corners of my lonely self.
When I still felt like living every hell-like day,
With your silent, imaginary, far cry help.
Just when I found my dreams to sail on,
And my paradise on earth became so true.
That is when, I should have said,
How much I hated you…..
You stole my paradise,
And poisoned my love,
And I perished with it.
Not because you said no to my love,
But because, you never gave me a chance
To say how much you meant to me.
Not because you prevented me from saying,
No, you would never do that.
But I found my reply
When you walked out of my life,
With someone else.
He had everything I did not,
But lacked everything I had.
I should have been bold….
But that’s where you gave me,
My own poisoned love chalice
And told me to drink to fulfillment.
And I did so happily.
And eventually landed in a desert
Where love drifts like the sands of time.
I lived alone, lonely and tired,
And moved as far away as I could,
In this neglected home for the neglected.
My sorrow engulfed me whole,
Until it turned me blind.
And my paradise disappeared.
Not by my blindness,
But by my grief.
And one day I found you,
Safe in the farthermost corners.
Sitting there like a lonely, lovely figure.
I thought you were dead.
But you sprang to life by my touch.
No, I could not reach ‘you’,
Because my blindness could only take me
To the corner shelf of my room
To my true companion – my flute.
On which I once played the love songs…
I played my flute to drown my pain,
And I think I played quite well.
Not because I felt no grief when I played,
But a small crowd clapped every time I stopped.
They stopped by to listen,
Every time I played.
Must have had their bits and fragments of sorrow,
They must have found some warmth
When it was colder than the Devil’s heart.
Because I did.
I felt paradise again at my fingertips.
Until my ear could no longer hear it play.
I had turned completely deaf.
A person cannot live with so much
And so little.
So much of pain, so little of joy.
So much of curse, so little of boon,
So much of poison, so little of paradise.
So I finally gave up.
And my poisoned paradise perished with me.
This time for real.
I was happy.
Not because I was relieved,
But because I had sent ‘you’,
In a small gift, neatly packed,
My broken flute.
My true drops of blood and tear.
I died the very night I broke it.
I know you will throw it away instantly,
Thinking it a joke someone played on you,
And go on with your life.
But it would get a last of your touch,
And that is all I need.
Maybe, subconsciously, I smile,
Maybe, unknowingly, ‘you’ cry.
Goodbye….. ....my flute
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