I'll Never Love Again

By Ritik Gautam

There's a symphony by the river —

Water, air, and dust whirl in rhythm.

Waves gleam bright in cracks of light;

I'm sitting on the shoreline, in quiet leisure.

On the distant bridge, vehicles to and fro,

Welkin-birds heading home.

Memories flicker like butterflies in my head;

By the water’s edge, I saw us instead.

Phantoms waltzing in their own hymn,

Far away from past lament, toward future’s relish.

Nostalgia whispered, tantalized —

You and I — wild, young, and reckless.

Four steps on run — you hit the brakes;

I turned and sighed, “For heaven’s sakes!”

You said — “In love or life, one should’ve known:

Great departers always walk alone.”

Pushing strollers — binding up the night,

I whispered, “Look above the sky, I think it’s about to rain.”

You laughed, “If it rains, then I’ll tell the clouds to spell our name.”

High on our tiptoes,

You went mad, I went silent.

You have galaxies long-winded;

I'm all ears — attentive to every parlance.

Then on the sand, you wrote the letter A.

I smiled — said mine starts the same.

Sweet quarrels and small fights,

I wished on a shooting star: this endless night.

Sitting on the broken stone, you said,

“Now it’s your turn —

Tell me about me.

You’re a writer.”

“Okay! Listen —

Your eyes hold twilight — solace in this chaotic life,

Smile like you’ve won the most lovable prize,

Voice, elixir — nightingale-flutters, sips and flies.

Millions may have collapsed, but we were destined.”

Enthrallment filled the air — you smiled and said,

“You are a poet with a solicitous mind.”

I know nothing — I just write

About our cathartic lives.

Now,

I want to say something:

Will you still love me when all my radiance dissolves?

Will you still hold me when I’m too hard to endure?

Will you still choose me when I’m nothing but an aching soul?

Will you still love me when I no longer live this life anymore?

Someone dashed a stone on the river;

Waves lost their curved lines.

Figment — fact — fallacy: sublime;

We were never there in hindsight.

One step ahead, four steps back to the dark forest;

Monsters turned — trees, pines — tall, stranded.

A bark asked, “Did you find yourself... still the same?”

“No... no, I’ll never love again.”

By Ritik Gautam