Looks, a Deceiving Game

By V. Mahanth Krishna

People often say looks are decieving, and I,

For one, couldn’t agree more, especially after,

Meeting a girl, like an ice-cold princess she,

I got to know her, for who she really was,

She has the warmest soul of them all.

If there was a language the stars could speak,

She would be a scholar, well-versed in thee.

She lies betwixt logic and magic,

Her virtues and morals last long,

Tis forever, she is the northern star.

Wherever she goes, the winged chorus gathers,

A scene from a fairy-tale, I shall have seen,

With her melodious whistle they gather round,

In arrays so beautiful, it begs the question,

Is she a fallen angel, or a chosen one?

With her entrance, the trees bow in reverance,

The meadows bloom, velvety, with fervour,

What once seemed to be a frosty winterland,

Turned into a lush green paradise, Oh!

What the sight to behold, the beauty ousts the cold.

Those first impressions of she, art what misled me,

Me, a fool, who was startled aghast by thee,

Upon realising, his fault, the loon, rushes forth,

To love her wholly, to the bottom of his heart.

This tale of love - shall be preserved in art.

He, who realised his innate feelings for her,

Chased her like how, a drought-prone root,

Chases a drop of water, he is incomplete without her.

And waits and waits for her to truly see,

What he can do for her, what he will do for her,

And keep her happy for eons on end.

By V. Mahanth Krishna