Talk to me of love and life:

Simple pleasures, private strife,

Of bristling anger, unfounded joy,

And all the tools that you employ

to get through this web of lies,

Of illusions and broken ties.

I cannot breathe till I hear your voice,

I have no strength and no choice.

Talk to me of love and life

You, my simple pleasure, my private strife.

Separation

Its not unlike the sound of rain,

This constantly drumming obtuse pain.

Against my ribs, against my chest,

Disallowing of a moment's rest.

To taste, it would be bittersweet;

Like the days we do not meet,

But listen to each other speak.

XYZ -1st place

This is a tale not uncommon,

This is a tale of woe,

This is a tale of love and losing,

This, is how it goes:

He was a man: cold and stubborn,

She, a spirited bird.

He never gave and she never took,

Their lives were never led by the book.

They met by chance at the water's edge,

The sun had sparkled as they'd pledged,

Undying love! Eternal faith!

Least mindful that they'd face disgrace.

The beginning was a whirl of colour,

Nothing brighter, nothing duller,

Until one day, he learnt her secret-

She'd buy food, but never eat it.

A year went by and they'd found,

A way of working things around.

But late, each night, she'd be in tears

He turned away, as she had feared.

A second year and life was frought,

With grief, disharmony and discord.

All he never gave and she never took,

A chasm on whose sides they stood.

Two years if life together spent,

Happiness borrowed and sorrows lent.

He left. She wept. They made no amends.

This, is how the story ends.