The owl was awake and staring at the moon, 
Animals in the forest, enjoying the occasional hoot, 
Two lovebirds, miles apart, 
Fighting diurnal tendencies with all their heart, 
Sleep won at the end and took them over, 
Ruffled sounds, breathing, was all anyone could hear, 
They drifted in dreamland and created mystical bonds 
Feeling each other in their sleep,
Love made them fall hard

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You could be sitting on a bench, 
Filled with sorrow and getting all tense, 
You could be climbing the Everest, 
Hands freezing and your heart in distress, 
You could be racing to the airport, 
Checking your watch and cursing therefore,
You could be thinking about the future, 
How many kids you want and their gender predilection, 
You could be standing on burning ground, 
Thinking its hell and scared to an ounce,

Her voice you should remember, 
It will give you courage and not a temper,
Her voice you should listen, 
It will reverberate with your star dust and make you glisten,  
Her voice, like a melody, will take over your thoughts,
It will be over in a jiffy, with no time to applaud, 
When the magic is over, you would be calm, 
Filled with a sense of purpose,
While standing in the eye of the storm,

So hold her hands,
And stare into her eyes, 
For she could be the calling, 
You were waiting all this while for

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The sky was blue, 
With a hint of rainfall, 
She left her house,
Slipping her stilletos on, 

Overjoyed she sat on a bench, 
Next to him, a book in his hand, 
She held his arm and pressed his palms
With no words spoken, she dispersed his qualms

They discussed their ambitions,
Dissected their dreams,
Sitting under the red canopy,
That day, 
Their blood flowed with vigor but they were calm

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The stone man sat on his pedestal,
One hand on chin, the other holding a lantern,
Enlightening others on their journey,
The stone man wondered why people rated intimacy so immensely,
Was it something that could be bought or sold?
Alas it was available for free, and no one had any control,
Yet he saw the shadows of men, craving a touch from another's zen,
He saw the tear the lady on the bench tried to hide, after an argument that left her hollow from inside,
He saw the smile on a young childs face, holding his parent's hands like it was the best day,
Soon the stone man realized,
Intimacy is not bought or sold,
Its a proximity felt while someone embraces you,
Like how water englufs the Earth with a vigour to either grant life or take it away

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There I was searching for I don't know what,
In a dense forest picketted with thorns,
It was destiny that I came across her, Or maybe it was plain dumb luck,

But she was like sleek chains, pulling me towards her with every passing second,
The multitudes of emotions that gripped my shirt,
I was freaking out from the core of my heeart,
She only had a bracelet,
Her beauty was breathless,
She was like the rose in the middle of a prose,
Wearing a dress as white as snow,

It was breathtaking to be close to her,
As I felt numb while watching her,
Only one idea crossed my mind,
That I would hold her hands and make my fantasies come alive

-

Only if you are afraid of the monster you'll become in your dreams

-

Four weeks since it started,
This love affair between fire and wood,
What a great couple they make,
As world leaders watch in awe

Fumes have covered cities,
As the media covers economy,
The nature suffers like always,
Doomsday clock ticks in silence

Theory of survival of the fittest will fail,
For we won't have a place to live on,
Maybe science will find a cure,
For definitely, religion will not.

This is what happens,
When you rely on the supernatural,
You think everything will turn out well,
When it most definitely will not.

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In the friends who allow me to be childish and shield me from the consequences of my actions 🥺

-

I wonder if a tree cries in pain when a woodpecker pecks it a 1000 times or does it get addicted to it

-

Stalactites take years to grow. Every passing drop of carbonated water helps. With time they become an attraction to visit a cave.
You may not be where you want to be today but, making an effort is important. The power of continuous effort and hard work, with time, metamorphise you into the butterfly you were born to be. The hard work of breaking out the cocoon is what differentiates beings.

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