Was It Even Love

Was it even love As I thought it to be then? Was it even willed by the skies? As, If it were so, Would it not be, today, A bond, held tight, By secret messages sent through the eyes? Or, By understanding each other To such an extent That it would be each other’s duty To give space or to keep silent When it was required? Was it even love If today, I feel like stones got pelted at me That sneers mocked my essence That disgust decorated faces And gave way to collapse? Well, maybe it was love Maybe, it had even been preordained But then, Since the words of the skies were taken To be mimes of lies Then, Fate got re-written And now, All I can relish of is how Freedom and peace of mind Are both so liberating That adorned with them, I just know that my wings shall never get bruised!