Nira’s Tale of Love: III

Always she lived in a world of dream;

Embarked with the handsome lads fine.

Allured by the fantasy of youth;

She forgot her own world of birth.

Her dimples were the unending slumber;

Like the lazy evening of a tired laborer.

Her uncontrollable beauty soothed the old;

Also allured a plenty of bold.

She enjoyed her beauty every day;

Until wrinkle of plenty elegized her gay.

Once she mocked old spitting ‘A Rustic’,

Even her shrewd crutch cursed for her pride.

Guided by her youth she started abusing,

Even every passerby hated her sinning.

The old lady left the place in no time;

She could not understand her crime.

Like the Lux of an immersed goddess;

She felt useless and cried in silence.

Her injury was healthy would never stale;

Her gaiety, boldness was growing pale.