Of Broken Sonnets and Black Roses

He had a choice; but he chose to break her heart.

She had a choice; but she chose to let him.

Stage 1

I have witnessed numerous relationships with promising future. It started with white, red roses, kisses and chocolates. Days are blossoming like leaves and flowers at spring. Partners are like love birds cage in a fantasy like love affairs. Mornings are filled with sweet messages, laughter and cuddles. At midday, plans for the night are made without reservations. And at night, the dark skies are decorated with stars and romance filled the atmosphere with warmth and unexplained joy.

Stage 2

Circumstances made a call. One must live away for work, for dreams or for better life. Distance and timeline were not on their side. Communications are made like a climb on a hill or a trip to a dark forest—full of thorns and obstacles. Doubts started to smell pungent and trust is starting to crack like iced lake waters on the end of winter.

Stage 3

Arguments are thrown like punches—deep and painful. Betrayal came in the picture like oil spilled on a canvass. One broke the code of the sort-of love cage and made an unlikely triangle. Cheating, contempt, and tons of arguments poured like rain brought by thunderstorms. Blaming was part of the game and insult reach heavens. They were angry, angrier of the fate both of them have chosen. They were victims. No, there were not victims. They are culprits acting victims. She cut the ties. He ended the story. Roses turned black.

Stage 4

The missing process took over. Souls reconsider chances (the nth chance). Nothing much happened.

Stage 5 (Final Stage)

Crossing path again with one another is the theme. They took a glance and suddenly ignited some past romance. They forgot what had happened. They choose to endure past pains. And just like that they reunited like fools. The cycle and stages spin like wheel—recurring on the same instance at some point of their lives. Loving. Hurting. Re-loving. Hurting and so on…

One Last Thought

The connection was like a broken sonnet full of dramas yet undone. It was beautifully written but realistically absurd. People can’t just hurt people after making them feel complete. And just like a black rose, the nature ceases to define its beauty. In the end, it is just a black rose and a broken sonnet.