The Interloper

A calm serene night sky with 

The moon shifting and stars glittering,

A drone hovering above with a bird view,

Sees the city lights that seem like fireflies. 

Minute-by-minute, lights wipe off. 

The man, the handler, clicks the images with

Wide and telescopic lens of cityscape and people. 

 

He gradually tilts the lens down 

On the opposite flat, like he always did. 

He could see silhouettes on the curtain of 

A young couple having an argument.

The breeze slightly shifted the curtains and

The window was half open for a telescopic view.

He could only see the girl, like intended. 

 

He had always seen the couple in 

At most love and comfort and craved for it. 

But that night, all he could hear was 

Stigmatization and brays so loud and sound, 

That he could hear them frantically through  

The bustling crowd and traffic below

And the rest of it through lip reading.

 

As she walked out the door, leaving it open, 

The observer set footloose. He was aware. 

He knew what he was doing; A mindful sin. 

He chooses to be a trespasser and an

Interloper in a property that was built strong

And refined over the years that no outer force 

Or dominance would take over any of them. 

 

The park was lit uneven, hardly any people around.

He sees the girl seated on a long bench. 

That's when he thinks of maneuvering her 

With his kind words and a hypnotising smile, 

Eventually pulling her down in his trench.

She falls for it. A shoulder to cry on, an upper-body to lie on, 

A six year long relationship to sly on, and dry date a pawn. 

 

Five years down, in a city of Ohio, Amherst, 

The porch is filled with bills and calls in arrears. 

The girl had turned a woman now, carrying only guilt. 

Her adopted kid asks her, "Mum, why couldn’t we 

Have a single good, peaceful day like in the movies?" 

She replies with a sigh and a sniff, "There's no greater agony

Then getting lured into something you never wanted to do heartily.”