Metaphors. They are a culprit.

Elated was he when,
he felt he found the perfect escape,
for the first time in his life,
which, until now, had been full of strife.

Little did he know,
about the seeds he was about to sow,
of love, of attachment, of obsession,
toward her,
toward the only source of his compassion.

He could see it,
more convincingly,
he could feel it,
because his story was being re-written,
in which each day was different,
each day was morning, afternoon, evening and night,
filled with fun, excitement and blissful delight.

Nothing else could be more real,
when he hunted for the man in her eyes,
it was only he,
the hero he always wanted to be.

She saw things likewise,
because he was the man from one of her dreams.
she thanked God in her prayers,
for being the most kind,
she was happy to be with the man she believed she could never find.

Her voice was only mellifluous,
the dulcet tones made him wonder,
how could anyone be so enchanting?
because he believed what she spoke,
came from her inside.

He would tell her day and night,
that she means the world to him,
which she was only glad to know,
the meaning of her being.

Both were on an emotional high,
full of love it was full of craze it was,
full of pleasant pain it was.
It was new it was a beautiful novelty.

But it couldn't be permanent,
cz their emotions had reined in their imaginations,
with concocting wishful metaphors,
each lost in their own worlds.

They had trusted each other,
of knowing one another.
but what they could only know,
was the best each had got to show.

And with time came a certain restlessness,
each thought how long could the play sustain?
and came along the insecurities,
the dark side shone bright.

Every passing minute made them realize,
that it was time to say goodbye,
and learn a lesson for life.
its not advisable to play with metaphors,
because metaphors made them believe in their own stories,
the stories which were different from one another,
and from reality.