Written by Pari Sharma
In forgotten whispers, we were left unspoken,
An echo that only the masquerade ball has awoken.
In the swirling glass of red wine,
She glided down, with steps divine.
Beneath the golden mask, her embers felt like canopy,
And I roamed in the grasses, with my heart beating melody,
Like a princess among commoners, she smiled like rubies,
And, among the sea of masked faces my eyes glittered with silveries.
The tinker bells tolled and the time came for the call,
With a gesture of hand she called for her crown, at the ball.
With hooting loud, he appeared, to entwine hands forever,
As I watched, the butterfly of my dreams, with the emerald mask wearer.
The wine spilled from my eyes, not rich but free,
Glass shattered, and defining silence was found in me.
Alas! I was the copper, not worth moulding a crown…
Since that masquerade… I was never found, with a smile nor a frown.
Text © Pari Sharma
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