CHISEL

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The lover boy stood with a chisel in his hand

How to etch her beautiful features on marble he failed to understand

He wanted to carve his fiancée’s liquid gold eyes with many a sharp incision

He knew that it would require a lot of precision

He aimed the chisel at the exact point to remove unwanted rock block

At his feet now lay the crushed rock

Layer by layer he created his muse on the yielding stone

Her heavenly form in rock took shape, a beauty he could call his very own

In life he could not live with his love died she in his arms of snakebite

He thus was creating her marble visage

To be able to gaze at her in the lonely nights

Mortal that he was, he knew he would have to withstand life’s blight

Patiently he would have to wait for God’s beacon light

To cross over from the world transient to eternal life

And finally reunite with his love in ethereal paradise

© Paromita Mukherjee Ojha 2015

 

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