You were a pretty grape vine…

Nirmal Thrideep
Jul 28, 2017 · 3 min read

You were a pretty grape vine
That I wanted to make all mine.
Despite my poor charms,
I took you gently in my arms,
And let you grow slowly into me.

All my walls you had breached ;
Into my heart your tendrils reached.
It was with great surprise I found
That you lifted me up above the ground,
Made me want to never come down again.

As your bright flowers began to bloom,
It worked to wipe away the gloom
That, in its clutches, had held me for long;
I broke into a song
And felt you sing along too.

Soon you were bent with that obvious grace
By the weight of your beautiful grapes -
Juicy, red and round ;
As any who tasted it was bound
To, I too fell under that spell.

When that sweet spring was about to finish,
I felt my excitement suddenly diminish.
In my mind there formed a mist
Of doubt, that wrapped around our tryst,
Leaving me, once again, unsure and insecure.

My confused heart pushed you away,
But you tried to make me stay.
And with all you could muster
Offered me that last grape cluster -
A reminder of what we had together.

The spell, again it worked,
Towards the grapes my hand jerked.
What came over me, I still do not know
But my apprehension suddenly began to grow ;
Without warning, I then snatched at that fruit.

My pull caused a vine to be severed
And above the ground, I no longer hovered.
Your affection, like a bubble popped,
Down on my knees I dropped ;
In my palms, the cluster intact.

Looking up, your fury was palpable,
I saw you had grown large and terrible.
But unexpectedly you withdrew,
A breath of relief I drew,
And hid the grapes in a jar in my heart.

With time, all will fade
As did the memories we once made.
Newer vineries I sought
And more sweet fruit I got ;
The thoughts of you went afar and afar.

Though I glimpsed you from far away,
To each other, we had naught to say.
While I thought I let you go
And continued to flourish and grow,
I knew not what brewed within.

Soon I began to feel drunk
Though I stayed away from that junk ;
My step would falter, my words would slur,
My vision would often blur
And into deep slumbers I slipped.

In brief moments of sobriety
I thought it over in entirety.
Pondering my disease,
I even asked the soft breeze,
Had I truly gone wrong?

But then came the reply
Not from the breeze or up high.
This feeling I could not thwart
Came from deep within my heart -
From stolen fruit hidden inside a jar.

The grapes, once so fine
Had inside the jar, turned to wine.
It's flavour sweetened
And your effects deepened ;
I had not felt, you make me a winery.

With epiphany, also came rage
And feelings I could not gauge.
From the jar, it began to leak,
Your sour wine making me weak ;
It was no surprise, this disease.

As my days grew longer
I felt the brew turn stronger.
And now instead of blood,
In my veins, a flood
Of wine, courses with every heartbeat.

I now live in the hope of a hunch
That infinite wine comes not from one bunch.
Though with each day, it turns more potent,
I know that your wine will one day end -
That day I shall be free, of your torturous revenge.

Welcome to a place where words matter. On Medium, smart voices and original ideas take center stage - with no ads in sight. Watch
Follow all the topics you care about, and we’ll deliver the best stories for you to your homepage and inbox. Explore
Get unlimited access to the best stories on Medium — and support writers while you’re at it. Just $5/month. Upgrade