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Chrysanthemum Chronicles/ July Issue
EXCLUSIVE
Othello Shall not Lament Monalisa Joshi
The casements of that kaput mansion, Shall open again, and the zephyr of fall, Shall flow from the sigh of the old king, Each year the autumn comes to my dwelling, In measured footsteps, when the old king, And queen sitting at the highest throne, Decides to lend some of it to my broken, Hearth, I stand for them the vagabond, Who couldn’t rise as their royal blood!
I chose Othello, a pariah, a rogue in, Their eyes, to fall in love with, as my man, Who could tear the skies and shake! Even the thrones of Gods sitting in the, Seventh heaven, he had the heart of iron, For whom I lost mine away, I stand as the, Traitor to the old king and queen, but the, Autumn they couldn’t trap to reach me,
