So I heard, moon and sun don't talk to each other,
A solitude develops in this galaxy,
Neither a hatred nor enmity that bitters this friendship,
Just two souls and their prides crucified,
A revenge that one seeks of another,
Hidden along the ray of dust, just hard to decipher,
A hostility that these have built over the years,
Shatters a fragile intimacy that holds them tight,
Other stars, asteroids unwillingly got dragged into this chaos,
The earth revolves around, stops, and sighs “oh what a mess, what a mess.”
As a gawking tourist, I got nothing else but to enjoy,
Take a sip of whiskey, laugh and smile,
As the thunder of their growling hovers the sky,
I step back, take out my camera, and capture those moments,
With no sense of attachments, no feel of ties,
I enjoy their battle, and intermittent cries,
Oh how I wish their grudge lasts longer,
For I cherish the turmoil in their land,
When their antipathy burgeons again, I smile back,
And reload a new film into my camera,
Their misery will make a miserable history.
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