The Story of Love

A long time back, when
Vices and Virtues were,
Young, playful, and inexperienced.
They had made a game of which,
None wished to ever remember.

Long forgotten in the span of time.
There was once a story of,
How Love had gone blind.
In this tale, it spoke,
How those friends were caught in,
The boredom which Idle Time bestowed.

In nature’s garden, they lounged,
Until the music of,
Silent minds had,
Riled Impatience twitchy thoughts.
“We should play a game,
Of Hide and Seek.” he said.

“What’s that?” Madness asked.
Impatience smiled as he explained,
The rules of the game,
Of how they would play.

“Everyone hides where ever they like,
But there will be one that will seek.”
“Sounds fun!” Madness thought.

“I’d be ‘it’.” He suddenly said.
Vices and Virtues went to hide,
As Madness counted,
The grains of sand on the river side.

Envy hid between, the clouds to watch,
Wishing she had a better spot.
Anger hid under a rock to think.
His face as hard as that thing.

Laziness laid on his bed to sleep,
Caring little if he was caught.
Patience sat behind the leaves,
Together with Tolerance he hid,
Amongst the trees.

Secrets stayed below,
Hidden in the Lakes,
Clouded by a shadowed face.
Vanity cloaked herself in,
The reflection of shiny things.

Love hid behind,
The white rose bush,
Of which she liked.
There she lingered for some time.

In time, Madness had forgot,
Why he counted the grains of sand.
So he searched every where but,
Was unable to find anyone.

In hopelessness, he glanced,
Up and found,
Envy’s sinister face
Peering through the clouds.

“Found you!” he declared.
For he knew he was right.
Infuriated that she was the first,
She gave him her brother’s site.

Anger turned cold,
In sight of,
His sister’s mocking laugh.
In his head he knew,
Someone had to pay,
A pair of eyes for,
Giving him away.

“Love is in the rose bush.” he said.
“But she wont come out till,
You stab her to death.”
Devoid of thought Madness believed.
With a pitch fork he charged,
Yelling madly for Love.

Wildly he stabbed until,
White roses turned red.
In her piercing scream, he stopped.
As she crawled out of her hiding spot.

Blood dripped down her face.
Madness knew it was a mistake.
He begged for her forgiveness and
Apologized. “What can I do for you,
To make it up to you?” He asked.

“Be my guide,” she said.
“You can be my eyes.”
And ever since, it was said that,
Love was blind.
And Madness always had,
Guided Love.

                                           -Vas Bismark