The Night Jasmine and him,

Oh! Was not it just a whim

Of hers! She felt him around,

She heard her heart pound,

Wanting to call out 

To him; and set about

On her journey of love,

As dew trickled from the leaf above,

She felt his breath warm,

Wanting to be in his arms.

He was taken in by her beauty and charm,

To her,he could do no harm,

He wanted to protect her,

Emotions beginning to stir

Within his male heart,

Wanted to make her a part

Of his life,as love pierced 

like a dart,came upon unannounced,

Taking in both of them together,

Both bound by love’s own tether.

Little did she know it was not to be,

Though he too was as much in love,as she,

That their relation was metaphysical,

A bit of the souls,a little mystical,

He was betrothed to another,

They did match each other,

He knew her since long,

They were to be together,lifelong,

That same day,they both were to be wedded,

Young Jasmine,hardly knew,her love story already ended.

The young bride busy in preparations,

For all her wedding celebrations,

Was picking fresh flowers,

For her bridal chamber 

And for her man to be,

The pretty Night Jasmine she did see,

The young lady, plucked her from the bough,

That moment Jasmine saw them together somehow,

It struck her then,she was not meant for him,

Tears made her vision blur and dim.

She still was in love so much,

Just wanted to see him,feel his touch,

Wanted to see him smile and be happy,

Not make him sad or unhappy,

Wanting to just feel him, his warmth and love,

As she was strung in a bracelet,this is all she thought of,

That night as his wife’s gift,he took her,

That is how he and pretty Jasmine were to come together;

And the Night Jasmine tightly wrapped 

Around his wrist; though crushed,still to him pressed.

Fragrant yet suffocating in the passion of love,

Peeping in to see through his arm’s alcove,

The warm ,lovelorn, favoured look,

For a dip in the Love Brook, but never mistook,

For she knew now,that she was not meant to be

With him, nor for him,however,that was the reality,

Still she was happy and throbbing with life,

As she withered & perished without any strife,

With a contented,pretty and pure smile on her lips,

In the trenches of soundless sleep,she slowly dips.

– Madhumita

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    1. Katz commented:On closer inspection, it appears that there is no direct evidence that Norgaard ever used the word “treated” in the context under discussion.Perhaps so. It doesn’t appear in the text I highlighted from Norgaard et al.. So The Register was relying on a cherrypick of some unnamed person’s report of a paper to run their troll. That’s even better because there could be no possibility of the authors refuting it. That doesn’t excuse their dreadful composition however.


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