It's ironic that I start my blog on a pessimistic note, especially when the "great day of love" is around the corner. But I couldn't think of anything better to start with. Through these two interlinked poems, I have put forth two different takes on this particular universally subjective feeling of "regret". It is almost always coupled with a sense of loss. We all have our own ways of dealing with this void that is created with us. In the poems that follow, the regret experienced is the one caused by doomed love or love that was never meant to be.
It was over right from the beginning. No scope. No hope. No chance. It was a baby born sterile.
It could have been beautiful. It could have been unique. It could have bought happiness.
But all it bought was a swarm of intense and inevitable thoughts hitting a mirror,reflecting right back.
The sheer weight of it made me helpless, with no place to abandon it all for good.
The more I tried to push it away, the more it tried to gnaw its way back.
If it were possible to part with this myself i would, but i continue being held by a flimsy thread of rationality.
My quest for beauty is like a breath of fresh air, it breaks through a cloister of burdened thoughts.
I find beauty in the puffy grey clouds overhead, in the rusty iron nail lying in the corner, in the skeletal dog that never barks.
If it weren't for this constant thirst, i would have long turned sour, would have long turn hated, would have long been cursed!
I could find beauty in you, and you could in me. But a thin wall of glass kept us apart.
I could see you and you could see me. But we didn't dare to move.
afraid to let go of this frozen moment, brimming with pure passions,
We turned our backs, boxed the unsettled emotions and parted.