Once Upon a Good Time

By Atharva Rewatkar

Those were the good old days

when I had a beautiful face to gaze at.

Not that my life was filled with glee

but her support made the day for me.

Not that I led a life of regrets

something that everyone forgets

But the blanket of her bliss

cloaked them all with a kiss.

Not that Aphrodite grew jealous

of our relation so fabulous.

Since you walk along my side,

all the Happiness in me does abide.

Not that I never made you weep

and the tears that you keep

but it was your company

that made us endure the cacophony.

With beacon from the clouds gray

falling on your face as you pray.

As rays fell on the bloom,

you kept me far from every gloom.

Not that I was a lover ardent

not to understand the flow of current,

Not that I tried my level best

to impose my wishes in haste.

Things got sweet sometimes

and bitter many times.

Sometimes, we conversed through eyes

painted in amusing sulky dyes.

But as the Wise people say,

every good time has to end one day.

No one sees the fateful tomorrow

that may be filled with joy or sorrow.

So one day, conflict did brew

as the tensions between us grew.

No relation cloaked by qualm

has ever ended in a manner calm.

I remained too adamant

on arguments that were scant

Suspicion in our relationship contain

which became unbearable to sustain.

Her wounds were too deep

as my tongue in her sorrow did reek.

As emotions took over rationality,

Both of us lost our individuality.

Tears on her cheeks glistened

as her soul wanted to be listened

I was too angered and impolite

to realize her emotions in sight.

Neither did she have respect,

nor did I feel the need to retrospect

When there lay no remorse,

what is the need to feel morose?

So, we decided to part

for the betterment of each counterpart

Not that I was too content

but now I had nothing left to lament.

O those Days of the Good Time!

They were surreal and sublime

As I say goodbye to you,

to traverse on roads, dark and new.

Now that I've nothing left more

nor, she has anything to adore.

Now, her memories haunt me

of what wrongs I did to thee.

By Atharva Rewatkar