In search of true love

In search of true love,
I turned myself,
Into a rose,
With a hope of someone,
Will gift my fragrance,
As a token of love.

In search of true love,
I turned myself,
Into a drop of tear,
With a hope of someone,
Will wipe me off,
To console the inside.

In search of true love,
I turned myself,
Into the moonlight,
With a hope of someone,
Will take a walk,
While holding hands.

In search of true love,
I turned myself,
Into a candle,
With a hope of someone,
Will lit me up,
To illuminate desires.

In search of true love,
I turned myself,
Into a shoulder,
With a hope of someone,
Will rest on me,
And promise the future.

In search of true love,
I turned myself,
Into money,
With a hope of someone,
Will show me off,
To buy the comforts.

Gradually and gradually,
Nothing left in this world,
That I didn't,
Turn myself into,
In search of true love,
Just! in search of true love.

Leaving a conclusion,
For me I know,
Nothing like "true love,"
Exists in this world,
But exists only,
Two little things-
Either you love,
Or you don't!

If love is there,
The feeling is true always,
Then why we add,
The word 'true,'
Just before,
The word 'love?'

Poor word 'love,'
Can only contemplate,
On the alteration,
On the insecurity,
This I come to know,
When I turned myself,
Into the feeling of 'love.'

Now I can say,
Happily and proudly,
The title of this verse,
Should be,
'In search of love,'
Instead of,
'In search of true love.'

- With love Monu Awalla

Red rose- The other side

Poe-a-tree Hop- A Roy Durham initiative
Theme- Red rose
One day while wondering,
A red rose cried,
Seeing this,
I asked the flower,
Why are you crying,
Instead of feeling,
A heart full of pride?

Replying to me,
Said the red rose-
"People make me happy,
People make me sad,
They play with my meaning,
Like someone who is mad!"

The words seemed,
A riddle to me,
A riddle enough,
To put me at sea,
The red rose caught ,
My- 'Being puzzled,'

With voice so soft,
The rose explained-
"Let me tell you,
How I feel,
The thinking of people,
When I deal!

The story goes,
Like this my dear friend-
Once upon a time,
There were two friends,
A girl and a boy,
Named- Mary and Hanks,
They called themselves-
Best-best buddies,
And no one was like them,
In the whole paris!

Everyday I saw them,
Laughing and helping,
Together and happy,
Until one day,

Changed the whole parity!

Hanks- One day,
Came walking up to me,
To pluck me with joy,
Of gifting me to Mary,
I felt special,
I felt ecstatic,
As I knew the vibes,
Was not at all fanatic!

The moment came,
The very next day,
When Hanks met Mary,
To display sweet-gesture,
Like the sweetness holds,
The red-red cherry!

With all the excitement,
With all the love,
He raised the hand,
To handover me,
Oh! I felt delighted,
I felt elated,
In overwhelming pleasure,
With infinite measure!

Before i could feel,
The warmth of love,
Mary slapped,
The innocent Hanks,
'I don't want to marry you,
Yelled Mary Jones,'
Then and there shattered,
All my pride,
Sending within me,
A wave of moans!

Heartbroken Hanks,
Replied gently,
'I didn't come here,
To propose you my dear,
I came to express,
My feelings so pure,
Towards our friendship,
For I know its special,
A relation to cheers,
A relation to wow,
Like this elegant rose,
I'm holding,

 In my hand right now!'

The words melt,
Mary to ground,
Now the apology,
Looked very formal,
Since she knew,
She lost the faith,
Hanks put,
On their friendship,
Now no one can untie,
The knot tied,
By Mary in haste,
A knot between,
The sweetest of all relations,
Is no more remained,
Sweeter in taste!"
- Monu Awalla
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