Wednesday, 7 January 2015


perfect life was her's to live
she searched for the perfect love
finding it she forgot her identity
alas it was too late
pain of betrayal was unbearable to tolerate
she was immersed in the world of pain
pain, agony, hate, anger, grief, anguish and heartache
these septenary became her foe 
unable to bear them she tries to fight
like a trapped bird in a hunters net..


  1. A septenary of woe! Excellence and perfection are only marginally related. Perfectionism nearly got me, and I was demanding it of myself. Had to let go. Good poem.

  2. Perfect love is not to be searched for, it finds you. Unexpected, overwhelming, all encompassing and then you say "I never knew love could be like this!"

  3. Very sad to feel like a trapped bird in a hunter's net. She definitely did not achieve a perfect life.

  4. I resonate with this poem - the pain of betrayal has a long memory. I like the new (to me) word septenary. Great response to the prompt!

  5. Those septenary emotions are truly destructive. Best to let go. Very well done for the prompt.

  6. Nice word, septenary, nicely applied to your moral tale - which, alas, is not so nice for the sufferer.

  7. A good life may not mean easily a good love life. One might easily botch it up. Nicely Arathi!


  8. Yes, those seven are opponents, though to lose oneself makes them even more so.

  9. Sometimes the quest for perfection is an impossible one...however if it was easy we wouldn't move forward so we must always try to fly a little ahead everyday...beautiful poem