The moon looked The brightest that day. The cosmos- Pushed life into Nurtured balls of courage, Which had looked So pale, one day. The night looked so pretty, And the stars Really WERE 'balls of fire'. When you held my hand And promised me, Dad. How much you can say, Without speaking a word, How much you can love, With your warm, healing eyes.
As I breath in, I know what keeps me calm How I survive, What I feel, And how I fight.
My soul catches your Precious gestures, Your efforts, And such a minimal portion Of your unfathomable love.
And as I sit here, father, I weave a painting of my dreams, The memories that will always be The Crayons for me. And the canvas is the art.
You know, The crayons have all the colour In them. And the beautiful coloured beasts Rekindle more of their kind.
Then,what? I fill my canvas with A stroke of brilliant gold.
Going there downright, Biding cheek by jowl, Far away from a bourgeois terra firma, Inundating into each other's soul, The country side witnessing the context of framing love, The hills, plateaus and valleys all above, Almighty being the leading dove, Cascading blessings and showering love, The windmills, kites and clouds sails, Waving into the atmosphere to depict its assent, The sun, breaking through the clouds, Surging through the smog, Escaping into the fuselage of moana, Birds chirping the appreciation of consent, And moving into the rural side, Galloping into the awful hour, Comprehending each other and our feelings, Slumbering in the arms of each other making memories, Daffodils, chrysanthemums, and adorable daisies, Undulating and planting the feeble idiosyncrasies, Shedding tears of happiness and huff, Under the lilac sky, spectating the never ending love!
Under the northern highlights, We met on that very mundane road The mauve sky that seemed more beguile, And the larks warbling their heart loud, Asters on the plain, The delphinium captivating the same, Eyes notarizing the elegance of one another, We lost ourselves into each other, Not letting go away until forever!
Idling away the hours, we were running out of words, Drowning into the ocean of 'love', as thought, Silence spoke, when vocable got lost, The gale uplifted me into the evergreen, The scent of roses, from the nearby garden, I flew into the rhythm of ecstasy, Busy bees, filling in time, with the chore of hiving up with honey, Butterflies flattering with their favorites, The dusk perceived to be nostalgic!
But some 'forevers' don't last forever; Some promises are meant to be fragile, Even the roses of the Valentine's Day Had the smell of cluttered trust and brittle promises, I thought that we would linger around, in the path along, I thought that love would last forever; I was wrong!