Let me tell you a love story an old and told one,

It was told so many times that it seems untold now.

A story of a queen charming as dew drop on rose petal

Falling in love to a king as strong as her charm, stupid she was

As she fell in love with the strength not knowing the man.

And so the story goes, and they get married in a dark cold room

The king and queen make love every night in dark.

As if their love is an undeveloped negative scared of light.

And then one day, by chance, when the king happy, feeling her

In his heart and everywhere, danced and danced like a mad man

And that day by same chance the queen saw him the first time in horror

How can my love be so ugly, so deformed and twisted, so perfect in dark

But bone chilling in the day light, she thought and left him in disgust.

From that day the king, strong as a rock did not move, and played a cord

As if to immerse the curse that he was born with liberating the soul from that.

Day and night the music played and poured like a hot poison in the ears

Of the queen, day and night she hated her love more so, just to find one morning

There was no hate left to give, it was love then, as if the pyre of hate had burnt out.

And she saw the love and ran to him as she knew that was how the story should end.

Told so many times that I believed that this would be true in this cold dark real world too.

I walked with my chest open with the treasures cluttering all over me in pride.

But the story I just told you have been told so many times now that it’s untold

And so no one looked at my chest, instead saw me in my eyes in horror and hence

I have lived with my curse all my life, and I know no music to break the curse today.