Pages

By Shonil Gramopadhye

Penned down countless pages,

Ink bled and stained for ages,

Singing words in rhythm,

Only a few could fathom,

His words were his voice,

In hopes, she would rejoice,

He wished, just dance and smile,

In hopes, it'll last a while.

But fate sure is cruel,

As their days passed in a duel,

His voices slowly turned silent,

His hands, turbulent,

Days turned into months so quick,

Years passed, felt like a week,

Flooding white with black and blue,

Even the paper cried for you,

"What's the point of all this rage?

If she could never read a single page?"

By Shonil Gramopadhye