Lighting sparklers
in each other's eyes,
in a celebration of pretence
and deceit,
They drink fine sparkling wine,
dine, dance and ravel
make love again and again;
two insatiable serpents-
in perpetual heat,
spitting copious venom,
till it becomes evident,
that not a drop, is left.
As dawn break out,
post-coital hatred reigns,
they, start to fight each other,
without slightest hesitation,
where does love figure in this life of zombies?
empty wine bottles come handy,
feeling thankful to the orgiastic nights,
they make good use of all that.
and,
when the heat dies down,
they kiss and make up,
sob, hug and apologize, two nincompoops,
like programmed emotion machines,
And how awful!
they start the next round with gusto,
all over again!
The morning sun, peeping in,
would find it hard to believe,
this utterly shameful game,
going on day in and day out.