Once upon a time , in a dark old alley,
Sat a shabby old man with his guitar abreast,
gazing at the stars , he plucked the strings,
A sonorous melody wafted through the air.
As he gazed with his gold rimmed blue eyes,
the melody changed from regret to a nostalgic sigh,
wondering about the right and wrong of his decision,
to find peace in music , so as to wipe off all the materialistic corrosion .
The strum was on and on,
A peace never gained in this material storm,
It's serenity filled the empty void in his heart like a hole,
as he gladly accepted a piece of nature's soul.
He closed his tired eyes,
his sweet strum unable to suffice,
And remembered his first aubade,
With his little son, whom for peace he left.
People passed by , in pairs or alone,
for them he was like a mere stone,
never noticed and never picked ,
but just a scar on the beauty of this renaissance street.
Gargoyles were his only family ,
he was a sage who sold his Lamborghini,
his only regret though was,
his son left with a fortune but all lost.
He believed then , he was alone,
but the line of fate sharpened , grand and solemn,
As there was a somber - heartbroken girl,
Nearby, shedding silvery teardrops pearls.
Thank you so much for reading . Please turn over .
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The Line of Fate
PoetryNot everyone believes in fate and destiny . But I do . I believe everything that happens to us if related to some or the other thing in our life. This is a poem narrating the plight of three individuals interlinked with their fates and destiny
