Revenge and Remission | Amrita Singh
T’was a crimson day streaked by the shadowy dusk
Yet it appeared dipped headlong into inkiness of treachery
Like the whole world had conspired
To bathe in the saltiness of revenge
A dark silhouette, dressed in layers of hiding
Concealed deep within, his predicament
He held a velvety red rose, Innocent and yet crafted
He twirled her around, smiled as she looked lost unto,
Bent to kiss the nape of her neck…
That which he revered true and long
And planted the rose in her fragrant bun
Her tresses came undone, while He kept twirling her around and round
As she laughed, a beautiful tilted resonance in the sky
He stabbed at her heart with the dagger,
The dagger which curled at the wrist
Like a shocked wind, her breath emptied itself
She lay wounded, in love, the last drops of life ebbing away
And He covered her with the discreet white shroud and walked away.
Remission
The sky looked like a lover’s palette,
Pinkly hues, engulfed in orange and blues
Moments, never more perfect for Love
A love that brought her back,
Unscathed from the realms of guilt and rues
The shiny mirror transformed into his gaze,
Perched lovingly, atop her face,
Dabbed into the scents and adorned her neck
Tied her hair into a bun, at his behest
She looked at herself, soaked in love
And wished that time would pass more speedily by,
To when they were together, tucked into an embrace
And then time could stand still, forever
A token of his affection, a satin white cape,
Wrapped around, the warmth engulfing her,
She hastened her pace,
Happiness unbounded, for she could now see,
There, holding a rose in his hand was He.
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