By Shreyans Singh
I used to stroll by like a fabulist man
An afflatus came by like a strike from a pan
A vivacious young lady with a smile so bright
Bedazzled me and my qualia with a sempiternal light
Was more seraphic than every god combined
A trumpery like me did then rub its eyes
Instead of phosphene, I saw the gamut of life
Oh my, it's love, I acknowledge the fact
The infallible emotion, the indelible act
The marmoris of her, then I started to see
In my two vagitus eyes, she started to flee
Cursed my amble should've been a bit swifter
Still, why did the magnum opus disappear in the mist?
Asked myself why did the French lady leave.
And why is my conjecture left alone on the creak?
Why wouldn't she stay for a fine young man?
Little did I realise I was a fabulist man