Home Turns House

Poem By Santhosh Vijayakumar

They did love, to the core.
But not any more.
Once, who lived with the other,
Now, only stay together.

In love, he was born fare.
They gave him all the care.
To warn, they did not dare.
He turned their worst night mare.

It was the worst of weather,
When he threw his forefather,
The respect of age lost.
A word of advice went least.

No care for their spouse,
A beautiful light they did douse.
There only meets a group of louse,
The home turns into a house.

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Love spoke to marriage,
“It is I who come first.”
For which marriage replied,
“It is for me you come.”


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Mistress of young,
Companion of middle-aged,
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Tell me,
How do I live,
If it was time to say goodbye?
I can feel a kiss from the rose.

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And a day after, a grand old man.
Is it only by blood?
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Blind with anger,
He drew his dagger.
Full of bloody eager,
To turn so meager.