Angelina and Her Swain
Neglecting the sun-rays
She comes here each day
Approaches to see the rabbit hole,
Ignoring the fear of animals
As her swain once committed her,
He will come here to meet her again.
Flowers emaciated, Trees withered,
Following the cursed- strong storm;
Cascades are no more watering,
Still drought can’t lock her in,
Birds don’t fly now in this sky;
But rainbows reminds her of him
Counting the seven colors,
She knits her trance that
The prince will emerge yet again.
That day he came on unicorn,
While sleeping soundly on her mom’s lap,
A bouquet of flower, box of love candies,
He said, he loves and would love her forever;
Angelina, now knitting a sweater thinks...
What would match him more?
A maroon? No...Blue, nope it should be crimson
Hence their love is forever, yet a lot to endeavor,
Entering to the wood, she asks the woodcutter,
‘Have you seen my prince today?’
Negatively answers regularly the woodcutter,
But Angelina counts her days till the date.
The pitcher of her waist, she keeps with her
She thinks he (Prince) must be thirsting,
When the unicorn flies, thirstily the price almost dies,
But seldom has he got a moment to stop,
The well became dry; the time keeps on flying,
The prince never comes here to stop.
At last the pigeon comes, delivering the letter
The prince once died by the encounter.
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