I kept on weaving dreams from threads of lies wrapped in ephemeral truths
Adding colours to my world cocooned in his embrace,
Swallowing, eagerly his words coated in honey
Believing blindly his promises glistening with confidence.

I painted my lips and colored my toes,
Hung huge clourful curtains on windows of my abode.
Flaunting my luck, I became the talk of every household,
And thanked the Lord for the mercy he showed.

Very soon reality unmasked,
And what I thought I had in my palms,
was just an illusion, a mirage that could never be reached.
Yet scared to shatter the appluadable image others had built of me,
the truth I never reavealed.

Putting up a jubilating pretense,
I smiled and laughed aloud ,
My pain minutely mitigated by their exclaims and sighs,
And prayed closed ones wouldn’t see through my sad eyes.

They looked at me wide eyed
assuming , construing,
Whispering into each others ears.
Some nodded in admiration and some smirked in envy,
As I kept adding flamboyant layers to the web around me.

My feigned contentment was an ongoing sin,which burnt me from within.
So one day, I pulled down the flawless façade.
Bringing tears to those to whom I was dear,
But then I didn’t live in pressure or fear,
As for my friends, the fake ones turned and walked away
While the true ones for ever stayed near.

4 thoughts on “Charade.

  1. Amita Paul

    A novel in a poem : a complete narrative . Simpler words would have made it even more poignant . “ Minutely mitigated “ meaning perhaps “ mildly ameliorated “ could be “ lessened just a little “ ; “ lugubrious eyes” is another heavy and incongruous construction , where “ sad eyes “ would have sufficed . Aside from these somewhat awkward and jarring notes , it’s a highly eloquent evocation with many well- used phrases . It holds the interest of the reader .


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