A pugilist in love

vikas chandra

How an angel smiles, now that lad would know, a simpleton from countryside
A lassie or nymph or elegance alive, what a glory of woman with a tinge of pride
So spent in self, how would she know, beyond a look, what love could hold
Endeared to the town, its black alleys, the passion of menfolk, lo and behold!

The lad, a petty pugilist, with naïve notions of love and allure
A sweet country bloke, with a spirit so pure, love’s lethal bouts, would he endure?
New to the town and the drag of its lure, unknowing to the world and its affairs
His stark truth, a tale of measly cares, a battle in ring, with blood, sweat and tears

It so ensued, they met face to face, the lass and the pugilist, in the market place
Surreal moment, it spent them, pug with love, lass, a ploy, to lead…

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