The saddest part of betrayal is that it never comes from enemies.
On the far end of the lonely lane,
In a big, lush-green bower,
A figure, which looked like a drooped down flower,
Sat sunken in her own thoughts by the window pane.
Believing in her beloved and the most idolized,
She failed to distinguish the true soul in him.
He was an epitome of love and altruism,
And he was that man who rationalized
The very necessity of her existence.
After the heavy grief of losing her parents,
In the hands of The Almighty.
The obstructions between them faded,
Making the air misty.
And their hearts fell for each other.
There was still a small difference, though,
She adored and treasured him,
But she was just an episode of his springtime.
Then one evening, she had a blow,
When she got a mail of apology from the man,
Who metamorphosed her living.
Now, he left the recesses of her life in obscurity,
And she spelled out, “BETRAYAL”.
P.S.: This is purely FICTIONAL. Please clap and share it if you liked it!