When the city lights feigned
the glimmer of the moon…
Birds flapped their wings to retreat,
willing to be caged soon.
Stars fetched my awe
with their liquid beam ropes
And, I draped the darkly sky,
tinged with scarlet hopes,
The night effused a savoir faire,
On, I traversed your aisles of glare
on and on…along my tears and sigh,
…I was rapt on high…
You searched for my bright visage
amidst faceless faces,
Beneath my skin, I held your traces…
Scars, fingerprints and scratches.
I was queenly, august and proud
You, the golden lining around dark clouds
Painted me in blush, made me preen
And, the world turned envious, green.
Then, the city lights turned blue
The night was all set for a rendezvous
I turned dark, merged with you
Enticed with your trickery, I was you.
Rapt, (Raptus, Latin): A feeling of utter amusement, of being carried away unknowingly and unwillingly! I was Rapt on Him even being an atheist, in spite of my reluctance of not losing my essence for Him. But, He spelled His charms, practiced His trickery and grabbed my soul. The unison made me Rapt, transcended my soul to high.
Pic Courtesy:
Book cover: Waiting on a Bright Moon, illustrated by Victo Nagai
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