She said; I don’t like the story,

I replied, no this is poetry.

The sun had disappeared behind a cloud

Life is stupefaction, a test of temptation.

Verily misplaced, perhaps displayed.

I know I can’t do it but I’ve to try

Is wedding a wrath or pleasure?

This ring is nothing but a promise.

So if I become a rat

Do not act like a cat.

I’m overthrown and almost gone.

I’m lost for words.