A Glass Of Wine

Once upon a time

There was A Glass of Wine.

The legend has it,

It was a gift of God’s from heaven.

One tiny drop of it

And thou shalt float on cloud seven.

Yet, nobody touched it ever.

And the glass just stood there- alone.

Enduring the currents of forever.

Overtime came other wines on the shelf.

They would look at it in admiration and in awe-

“Behold!

For here stands ‘The Wine’!

The eternal virgin!

The one without any flaw.”

But none would dare to talk to it.

And the glass of wine would stand there,

Naked to the eyes of all its peers.

In the company of so many

As lonely as ever.

Drunkards would come

from all around the world.

With yearning eyes they would look at the glass.

Satisfied once only would they,

Order a wine, next to it.

And that glass of wine would just stand there,

At only a feet distance to the drunkard.

Yet so unreachable.

Only if it could tell,

Oh! How it wished,

For the day to come,

When it will be touched,

And it will be kissed.

And be redeemed of its longingness forever.

But alas, Oh my!

For eternity it cried.

But none came worthy,

To dare claim its bliss.

To taste even a tiny droplet,

Not even a fleeting kiss.

And then one day,

Even eternity cried

For that virgin glass of wine,

When virgin it died...

It died in a foolish accident at that foolish place among all those foolish drunkards.

It lay there, spilled on the floor...

Broken pieces of glass shattered.

Gasping for every single breathe,

And wondering-

if ever anybody cared?

But the very next day,

They sat the entire place on fire.

And the drunkards left drinking, forever.