It’s when I was sitting with my books and a glass of fresh watermelon juice, I realized how everyone is competing in some or the other way, for the love they won’t get! Because, all it wants is release. Like moths to the flickering flame, we are drawn to this pernicious game- A dance of souls with emotions aflame. They say it is a blessed fame, but a crying shame!
Like drunken fools they are drawn to the belief that the love that can mend our heart’s brokenness. This hope misguides the romantics into answering the trickster’s call. It’s a trick! An affliction of the mind leaving you with a feeling of contentedness; a malady of the soul, causing an illusion of wholeness.
It feels like a tryst of two destinies entwined. Forever at first, till the veil over the truth is off. Forever is not the eternity they had in mind, it’s the trickster’s rosy pictures made them blind! But, like the hapless, drunk with the hope frantic, they always hold out for the next, maybe through a witty text or drunken midnight’s call. They will fall! For the promise, or the eventual dejection. In the paradise of a fanatic, the sun never sets.