Krishika Upadhyay | + Follow Poet |
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A Beautiful Lie

She met him one October day,
When autumn winds had lost their way.
Leaves whispered secrets down the street,
And fate, unasked, had planned their meet.

He smiled the way the sun might rise
On empty fields and hollow skies.
He spoke like pages dipped in gold,
Of futures warm, of hands to hold.

She, fragile as a half-healed scar,
Believed his voice, his eyes, his stars.
Each word he wove a silken thread,
Wrapped ‘round her heart, her soul, her head.

She told him stories, bare and true,
Of broken things she'd once lived through.
He listened close, then kissed her fears,
His lips like hope, his breath like years.

In quiet nights, they'd sit and speak,
He’d trace her tears upon her cheek.
He promised things she longed to hear,
A life with him, a world sincere.

But truths, like mirrors, often crack,
And love that’s false won't hold its back.
He lied with grace, with gentle hands,
He wrote her name in shifting sands.

She noticed first the subtle shade,
The pauses in the plans they made.
The way his eyes would search the door,
As if her love was something more.

She caught his silence, caught the game,
Yet never once spoke out his name.
She smiled, pretending not to see,
Still clinging to what couldn’t be.

For love, when pure, is blind and brave,
It walks with fools into the grave.
She let him go without a fight,
And cried alone through endless night.

But even pain, with time, will heal,
Though lies were false, her love was real.
He gave her dreams, though wrapped in wrong,
She kept the tune, but changed the song.

Now when she walks through morning dew,
She hums the past, but paints it new.
A story told, a flame burned dry,
She lived and loved a beautiful lie.



“Sometimes, the most painful truths are wrapped in the most beautiful lies...and we hold them, not for what they are, but for how they once made us feel alive.” ~ Krishika 

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