She was that Poem
Penned by the Writer
I loved to Read
That turned me, a Reciter.
She was that Painting
Painted by the Artist
That kept me Smiling
Even at the darkest.
She was that Carving
Carved by the Sculptor
That brought me the feeling
Of, World is a Cluster.
I was Cheery
For the gift of Creator
But became teary,
When he turned a Castigator.
For my Unknown Mistakes,
Which I always regret,
He denied me,
The Poem, The Painting, The Carving.
“Oh Yeah, She was your Creation,
But also my only Obsession,
That your act has become a transgression
Pushing me to a deep regression.
If the Laws are Equal
For Me and You,
Then its your time
For I am the Creator and the Castigator now.”
I became that Writer,
Searching for that Poem
In all the words
I pen.
I became that Artist
Searching for that Painting
In all the Colors
I paint.
I became that Sculptor
Searching for that Carving
In all the Stones
I touch.
Still I am carrying on,
That never ending search.
A Search For Her.
~Abhy~
