Polemic

The sun is dying a contented death,
having seen her all day long.
The moon can’t wait for the night vigil,
to save her from the earthly throng.

Here she comes from behind the wall
in her ever so graceful gait.
To take her in my loving arms,
Oh God! I just can’t wait.

My first sight on her and I knew,
I know her not from this life.
Astral partners we have been
in joy and in strife.

Her smile and her dimple,
Oh! so deep.
A cursory glance
and my heart skips a beat.

Her eyes meet mine
and weaken my heart’s fortress,
she is and always will be,
my enchantress.

In the eternity of the preordained
where we all are just channels,
do we really have a choice?
Or are our choices already taken?
Did Einstein toil for intellect?
Did Freud struggle for thoughts?
What explains avarice of Midas?
So many sins unpardoned,
but for the treachery of Judas.
Why reason Hitler’s quest for power?
Why judge my love for her?

Why the eternal love we bind
by the shallow comprehension of human mind?
Why see it from the pivot of mortal axes?
Is it not beyond religion, caste, race or sexes?

It isn’t my fault that
in every glimpse of her,
I’m reborn.
It isn’t my fault that
in her vanishing act,
I die a million death.
One glimpse of her, and
in the breeze of serenade,
the flag of my heart unfurls.
So where lies the crux?
We both are girls.

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