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Poem

Breathing the air of a fallen cloud,
The dust got stuck in the back of her throat,
Adelaine, whence have you come?
High up above from the stratosphere,
I saw you like a tear in the open sky,
Fiery clawed swipes of desperation,
Of trying to hold on,
Like a streaking comet, you crashed down.


Wasn’t the taste of Love’s sweet incense, rich enough to savour?
Wasn’t seventh heaven appealing enough?
Couldn’t the heaven’s pulchritudinous grandeur transfix your senses?
No, your wings were too heavy to hold you up,
Guess you flew too close to the sun and your wings got scorched
You burned out in the morning sun,
And though the atmosphere tried accommodating your love,
It got tangled with your anaphylactic sentiments and affection,
That you emitted.

Ronan, where were you?
Guess your supernatural powers eluded you,
No power of strength or adrenaline left coursing through your veins,
You mummified the superman that ones swept her away,
She plummeted to the arms of gravity,
She found comfort in the hands of a narcissistic bastard,
He crushed her soul, broke her trust in Love. 

 Mrs Adelaine died a heartless death,
Her beating phoenix heart, couldn’t revive its putter,  
The sputtering of her last breath caught in her wind pipe,
The breath that couldn’t be savoured,
A feeling that would never see the light of day,
A light that would slowly lose its focus, 
on a long lost Love.

Geniuskin

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