Ralph, they called him
and a state of confusion characterized him.
His evens saw him as a dulcet signor
crude hay for his odds.
Synonym of sanguinity, untouched by grief.
Boundless and restless, always on a spree.
Until the day,
His eyes struck her.
Emergency stroke and adrenalin gush.
His motion seized though he felt someone moving him.
With baiting breadth and thumping heart,
he stirred himself to catch her gait.
Everything was ordinary 'bout her,
except she herself, who was so very extraordinary.
Trickling emotion, perspiring affection,
there was some candle magic about her.
Self contained yet looking for someone, her eyes said it all.
He started thinking of the hands that crafted her.
She was serious and he loved her unusual smile the most, though
there wasn't anything in her he didn't adore.
"Six hours a day were damn less" he thought.
Though it was something out of the bloom, he knew it from there.
He knew it was the beginning,
beginning of the end.
He loved his love and the love for his love.
He felt the aroma of the curry intensifying day by day,
for at nights he knew nothing of himself.
Transformation One.
Tender emotions, red wine heartache,
Scared of opening before herself, he wished her cognition.
Reciprocation wasn't something he looked for, but certainly
He desired consideration.
Consideration, for his strong unconditional love, if it was so.
He loved her for what she was
and for what he used to be with her.
And the gods made him grant his own wish.
But Venuses doves thought differently.
Cupid struck him only to leave his saccharine heart bleeding.
Nevertheless, he struck to his destiny,
for he believed in making his own destiny.
He survived the trauma plethora.
He survived the moral attack.
But grey was evergreen for him which saw lilac submerge.
He propelled himself, but the stars were a bit too far.
The depth of his love was unfathomable,
But love love love alone
couldn't make him get the throne.
And now they are apart
or rather she's away.
And his love rocks him day n night.
She rocked him last night,
she rocked him today.
Transformation Two.
He's in two halves,
the first of which is her and the other of which is her as well.
He could move the mountains,
but his Angel's opposite him.
He wants to lose, lest his love doesn't lose.
A deep melancholy has prevailed over him.
He's unsure who to look up to.
Phoebes all day and Diana in the nights.
But the clouds day n night check even that consolation.
With bleared visage he looks up.
Wilted lips move,
Gramercy gods for your beshrewment.
But I think I loved her,
loved her from the base of my ventricles.
Next, he turns to his heart.
Just for once make me feel thy love,
be it a mirage and I'll be content forever.
Exchange thy nights with mine and realise how bereaved I am.
I still have English April in mind.
With unthrifty ostents she orders realism to prevail.
Farewell heat and welcome frost.
I fully abide by your decision, you cannot be wrong.
For you have been created creature's best.
And then he looks down.
For he is out but not down.
His idealism says “Life must be having better things in store"
and he mutters “What’s better than best."
He doesn't know if he'll survive this blow.
He put his everything at stake
and still lost the bet, the battle of his life.
But remember, he's out but still not down.
And got a few scores to settle before he breathes his last.
Transformation Three.
Adieus _________ .
If not banishment, at least realisation.
Momentary anguish and lost self respect provoke passions.
But he'll survive,
for there's still the big one unanswered.
And he loves the lingering business,
which brings the best out of him.
Out of him and for her.
He's waiting for the two letters,
if at all they are to be waited for.
And of course, que sera sera,
For the show's just begun
and it will go on.
