Her Story

     

 Now I am one of the pages in her pious book

She meets me many a time a day

I am a lifeless life to her only lifeline

Blurry memories to her youth

 

I am a brown wrinkly envelope

In me is a creased letter

I came in her happy hands, forgotten years back

Walking in beauty, she rushed to feel me

She kissed me umpteen times

Mutely repeated her rosary

 

I was the singing and sensation of her star

The Soldier on the border

His promise of holding her in his embrace

Meeting her in the open terrace

Locking the moments in one breath

She had reached the wondrous world of dream land

 

She carried me to her bosom

Within earshot I felt her heart beats

Sweeping letters in the love letter

 Duplicating words to her self

End of the endless wait of her lover

A crisp white envelope embossed for martyr’s sweet heart

 

Time creeped by in fidgety silence

I am the last liaison of lovers

Leafing the scriptures, she meets me

I am angelic page in her Good book

 


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