Last Night

The breezy her left the freezy he

And could not save the service

He was few fingers away from the ruthless rain.

He needed her for the fever.

So he ran barely-clothed in the streets.

Swinging his merry-hood; to and fro.

He came a cross a group of gluttonous ladies

(the kind a man can loss his matrimonial muse on),

they mocked him.

The night was killing him.

He wished he’d never melt his mate.

…eave to even

 “Do you see her?”, he inquires of any one on his way.

Again and again,

like a mad man he traversed the goings of the streets to no avail.

The more he pursued the more he triggers,

he struggled and straggled, on and on, his gift of grief –

face to face with a fierce fate.

Then he found her with his mother…

Mother never taught him to beat a woman,

mothers don’t – no mother will, never… not even father -  

So, he gathered his muscles when he found her…