My Black Lady
My love… would you take the pride
In making me a poet?
Or would you in obscure, hide in shame
On realizing- that it’s with you
That the atmosphere of my orb’s mindset
Has changed, and what would be the times
Greatest event; in turning me a poet!
As my friend says, you were the ceremonial stone
Or, are you the undercurrent of my karmic connection.
My love… it was just platonic love…
Turned into a proposal which was denied; at your disposal
So why is that the impact, has changed one’s life destiny???
So; may I declare thine name to the world: my love…?
Or in my conscience world safeguard you!
You are not shahjahans- noorjahan,
Saleems anarkali… bajirao's- mastani, or Keats –fanny,
its better you be Garandpa’s- black lady?!
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