Those partings, of springs, we called, them ‘fests’
Until sacrament, of, lasting fall
At the heart, of won, and lost conquests
Two souls, tangled to, a fond recall!

Didn’t we, invent, estrangement!
That art, to look through, prism of past
When the eyes, do meet, they just resent
“Whose love, was it, which did not last!”

Was it, that love, or an age, we lost
Those ‘maybes’, and those, ‘may-not-bes’
It is, not time, hearts pay, the cost
Of the, yearnings’ half-done, rhapsodies!

So be it, a passion’s, travesty
They say, all’s fair in, love and war
Yet, I ain’t, beyond you, you ain’t, beyond me
Amid Embers Galore, Why Love Hurts More!

© 2019 Vikas Chandra