A BOND OF FATE

At the gates of divinity,

As I stood with utmost sanctity.

"It's me again, the black widow spider,

A stealth nightcrawler.

I spin the web with a lot of passion,

As a need to fulfill a predator’s mission.

In my web of deception, the prey lies helpless and clueless,

Innocent or guilty, wondering about it is really useless.

Cursed with a deadly poison,

To lose the one dearly loved without the slightest hesitation.

I may be vibrant, and colourful,

Do I possess a soul? I am highly doubtful.

Is this my choice? forever willing to ask,

To be a pawn in your perplexed maze of a task.

Between a human and mine, there is a difference of coherence,

What mistake did I commit for this injustice and indifference?"

Just then arrived, the footsteps of divinity in motion,

For the sole purpose of proving wrong, my notion.

"A conjecture of innocence is your point of divergence,

Hate to disappoint, between you and him, there is no such variance.

In fact, there are similarities concealed in this entangled concurrence,

Which, in his limited reasoning called ‘a mere coincidence’.

He too cascades a web of passion, only to lead a path of destruction,

Inevitably separated by a faint line called addiction.

Assumes himself as a predator who is hunting,

But in reality, just prey in the making.

Wearing a mask of deception, guards his emotion and secrecy,

Unable to judge existence in the realms of virtuality or reality.

He is blessed with a dangerous mind,

Housing thoughts, memories and regrets of every kind.

Fills his empty cup with endless greed,

Nothing but a potent motive for all the wrong deed.

Soul of his, seemingly wild and bright,

Forever reasoning, what if I might?”

Then, suddenly I heard a voice,

So tranquil and poise.

As my hands and feet began to feel warmer,

She asked me to tell the exact time, place, and person in order.

My eyes once shut, now wide and open,

Irrigated with hope, I was fruitful, not barren.

"Administered you the antitoxin for its bite,

You will be fine," she said, gripping my hands tight.

But there was me, hallucinating, lying on the bed,

Pondering whether I was alive or playing dead.

Out of nowhere, my conscious boggled me with a confusing question,

To which till date, couldn’t find a fitting solution.

"Now that 'I' have found you, meaning 'you' have discovered you,

What was it that actually saved from this blurring vision of yours covered by due?

Was it her drug in your vein?

Or the neurotoxin called ‘Pseudohope’ in your brain?"

PRMDR