We have heard that it takes two to make a quarrel,
Perhaps this story too has a moral,
—
They say one and one together makes eleven,
But what if one decides to stay in heaven,
—
Heaven is a term of their imaginary comfort planet,
But it seems too far-drawn when they unlock the casket,
—
Casket depicts the blindfold they’re holding so far,
That they’ll not leave because I’m their oxygen bar,
—
Perception have their own games,
Sometimes fair to both, sometimes leaving its own fame,
—
Owning the gem, conquering the war, not always important,
Important is getting the learnings from the new is where you reach,
—
The blame game has begun again, mental calm has been abducted by the pain,
The ground is set though with firey pane,
—
But no more subconscious allows me to fight,
However, I’m set to catch a long walk in solo besides,
—
Though that was the short shredded insight,
Still hoping the springtime will bloom with sweet delights.
