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Writer's pictureAshutosh Kumar

Desert Rose


Painting: 'Meditative Rose' by Salvador Dali


 

I was in the midst of this desert,

The desert called Life.


I was in search of nothing,

Yet I was in search of everything.


Walking through this vast ocean of sand,

I saw something unique,


A rose tightly closed in form of a bud,

With the passage of time it transformed itself into a beautifully developed flower.


I didn’t dare to touch,

I feared about its tenderness.


I stared at it innocently,

It looked more pink,

As if it blushed like a sixteen year old teen.


Its scent attracted me,

In fact intoxicated me.


It seduced me to play with its soft petals,

It forced me to taste the nectar that oozed out of it,


I hoped it will quench my thirst,

But it made me more thirsty.


I wanted to worship it,

I fell in love with it.


I even extended my hand to touch it,

Ouch! The thorns came to its rescue,

It made me bleed both within and without.


I cried in pain,

But the Rose stood still and unaffected.


I felt dejected,

Soon my love turned into revenge.


I became blind in anger,

With a swift blow I plucked it.


I thought of the best way to hurt it,

In its pain I searched for pleasure.


Within no time I crushed it in my palm,

I destroyed it,

I destroyed it completely.


I felt a strange pleasure,

The pleasure that I have never felt before.


But when I opened up my palm,

It was no more.


She vanished,

But while leaving me she gave me a beautiful scar.


The scar of her sweet scent,

My palm still smells of her.


This scent forces me realise,

That she was a Rose.....My Desert Rose!



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