Image by VISHAL KUMAR from Pixabay 

It's her story
In her voice
Just the quill is me:
Where the dawn arrives
And the sun turns kesari,
Kesari are the leaves of Barsana
As well as the ink of Vrindavan
Him is the musician at concert
Her is his priceless music,
In it's afterglow and final chords
Here the dusk of love arrives
Unrequited for You
Metaphysical for Me.
Radha: Narrated for YOU, written for Me.
The story goes on...
In the wild music
Restless was the Dwarka's autumn
In the blue enchanting mist
The moon was missing
Dunk in the darkness
My lungs wilted
My Heels cracked
with love oozing out
From the gaps between us
I was running in the woods
Picking every leaf to find you
'Cause the palace fed me lies
It said you were there
But nowhere found
Among the luxurious hounds.
-I'm here
My whole world crooned
With open arms, in my ears
Bloomed the jasmine in my hair
To hear a voice so deeply familiar
-I'm sorry to keep you away
It was a mistake for destiny's sake
It's an ache in my heart
For you Radhe it aches,
Take whatever you want
It's all yours, it's you, take.
On your demand!
Play me the flute
Weave me in your song
Hold me by your melody
No, don't look at me
I'm a wilted flower
Let your melody
Drape me all over
I'll wither and fall
golden-orange skin slowly
Gradually falling with the symphony
Tanning dark in the new moon
Where I found you
Under the half one
Beside my wilted home
Floating over your reflection.
With his every breath stricking the flute
Hers left blending with the symphony
The night hummed by the side
Watching the rise and wither
As the night went darker, melodier
Day approached nearer, emptier
With final chords hitting
Her last symphony was held
By him, at his flute clinging
-"Don't go, please, don't"
--"Let me, please, let me go"
--"Let me..... Meet you.... soon......"
And the music stopped
The world went dumb
Just when the symphony left,
She lays there lifeless
The flute broken.
It's a quest of love, where is Radha?
She merged with the symphony
of his heart, she was his melody,
soul of his flute, his very own as well
Meanwhile he drank all the music
to trap it in his lungs
and never let it out,
so it stays next to Radha in his heart.
The world never heard his flute after that
Except for her, except for him.

It's a metaphysical love. Apart from patience love requires, Acceptance like Rukmani, Devotion like Meera. There was Radha in Rukmani's wisdom, there was Radha in Meera's strength and krishna, well he was Radha himself.

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