THE DIRTY LOVE

The dirty stream, filthy and murky, 

Once ran unpleasant to his inhabitants,

Longed for the touch of a pure rill.

But alas! Their love was not meant to be,

For she was pure, and he was dirty.

Still he stood yearning for her advent,

As the summer awaiting a downpour 

To have their way unhindered in love sublime.

The monsoon graced them with a union

And the overflowing rill made its way to him.

Thus, the two, forever flowed united

Blossoming the thirsty lands that awaited them.