Was It Even Love
Was it even love
As I thought it to be then?
Was it even willed by the skies?
As,
If it were so,
Would it not be, today,
A bond, held tight,
By secret messages sent through the eyes?
Or,
By understanding each other
To such an extent
That it would be each other’s duty
To give space or to keep silent
When it was required?
Was it even love
If today,
I feel like stones got pelted at me
That sneers mocked my essence
That disgust decorated faces
And gave way to collapse?
Well, maybe it was love
Maybe, it had even been preordained
But then,
Since the words of the skies were taken
To be mimes of lies
Then,
Fate got re-written
And now,
All I can relish of is how
Freedom and peace of mind
Are both so liberating
That adorned with them,
I just know that my wings shall never get bruised!
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