BLOODBIRDS

Trials were made,

Yielding just deceit.
Loitering aimlessly,
Two starved birds meet.

Regard providence,
Or put the stars to blame.
On a common branch,
They seek refuge in a rain.

Comfort in times of need
Is medicine to the ill.
They rendered, they received,
And united in free will.

Above a deeply rooted oak,
Soon bloomed a nest.
Higher than worldly matters,
Hidden from the rest.

Gradually the nest grew old,
And the occupants, mature.
The ties began to rupture,
The union seemed unsure.

Wars that lust did wage,
Consumed faith by decay.
Togetherness became a strain,
With each passing day.

Diversion is the inevitable,
Amid mates taken for granted.
The two parted ways,
To seek what they wanted.

Years later they meet again,
En route to the forsaken nest.
Like pirates coming home,
For their final rest.

-Karan Ghosh