The Lonely Cupid

By Laxmi Guria

With his arrows of love,

he makes the ones, the two meet;

like the Sun and the Moon,

sharing the same universe

but differences make them forget to breathe.

Millions of stars hidden in his sack,

trapped behind the bars,

just to hear, “Release. You are all free!”

But poor little Cupid,

sitting under the apple tree,

none to come and tease him,

‘K-I-S-S-I-NG!’

Loyal, charming, wonderful,

our little hardworking bee,

sweet as nectar,

but unhappy within,

as you are ignorant to see.

The Heaven makes people for people,

as they speak out of blue and grief.

“What about him, big old Almighty?”,

he wonders and waits,

like Ranjha waits for his Heer.

By Laxmi Guria