Seeds of your look sown deep in my eyes, sprout centimeter with rains of our meetings, irrigating my senses..
Every day and every night, on any given time, I travel miles and miles. I wonder if you travel or cover as much or more. Then. Do I really care? I reach in a flash, places - stopped by; and perch by the top.
In every phoneme, in every phone, the music of existence plays - quietly, sometimes - loudly tearing my ears - apart. Only if it was audible. Then, I thank the Almighty, for being invisible and keeping this phoneme Immortal.
In the ocean of darkness, a muse levitated with a lantern but soon the fuel burnt out, and so started the journey.
It is standing where it was; still, quiet and patient. Cycles of seasons have played reasons for green, brown and nude. Memories scowl with a gust of wind, scalding the fresh tissue revealing cuts of a young beau
A tiny world beats among the crowd screams so loud without trace of Pleats it came in a box, goes by Pandora, filled with aura- self-incurred hoax agony- it incurs as melancholy blows in heart of darkness it comes alive
Warmth of our togetherness rose to peaks of new highness, freezing the clouds, melting the whites, to the brook flowing to the rift between us yet so far away from my view; I stand, from where I see only a silhouette there.