How would life be without hope, without dreams, he thought;
He believed in aimlessly reaching his destiny,
In chasing the brightest star,
His faith always filtering hope through clouds of doubt

But now, he wanted his clock to never move an inch,
Yet he wanted this moment to never have an end,
He was seeking love, not merely to seek and find,
But to find all that he held within, against it

He could now smell the world and her, of roses certainly,
Of the road she left behind, filled with her sweetness;
He was not under her spell but dreamed of standing,
A thousand miles away, at the gates of her rose pink city

Oh! The air is being too heavy,
And he stops himself from drowsing
Lest the aura of his dreams,
Does not shun down her true elements…

** to be continued

And so the melancholy in his heart disappeared,
Could just a smile do that?
Alas! It lasted for a second,
But had already quenched his thirst

It was one of those rarest moment,
When the various strokes, dipped in vibrant colours,
Some meticulously made, others hastily;
Finally fill life in the canvas

People, very delicately, trace their destiny,
Until destiny is no longer required,
To justify that exchange of glances
Had indeed, pierced deep within!

He did not smell her perfume,
Neither he saw her hair strewn by autumn breeze
Oh, he wished now, that he had walked by her side
But has the magic been any different?

** to be continued