Right in front of my eyes, gone are those days
I ain’t a person to forget a face, not now or ever.Especially this one.
Lovehorns play at the sight of her grace
Her voice reverberates in the chasms in me.
Her I devour.
Even when all shall cease to exist, there, as a speck, shall be her vibrant last trace.
Unaware she is, off this side of me towards the world and her.
To that noble one, sparkling as gold, simmering her shimmer to shine only before me,
There resides a seldom deep but often paying acquaintance with a shallow murmur.
But in here, at each visual treat there erupts an orchard of emotions that blossom free
Which wither with a sorrow that I am disallowed a chance and the relation cannot be a new manoeuvre.
Known to me, she is, for quite an appreciable time span.
Her coal brown eyes, resting above the blush of her skin.
The whiplash of her hair as she moves, falling on her skin – fair without any tan.
Each conversation is a celebration, each solemn moment spent alone a big win.
Words cannot carve that feeling – respect? love? unconditional empathy? fandom of a true fan?
My heart and mind are well aware that the world is quintessentially meritocratic,
Forever symbolizing dominance through pinnacle grade education,
But it is simultaneously a collection of sapiens hypocritic
Who acknowledge and preach love as a positive sensation.
But when a known has plunged into affection, nature and world plunge as a strong critic.
As time shall pass, I shall continuously remember
That stature off her’s that makes everyone look up to her;
The gait that turns the path travelled into polished Amber;
Each breath of her’s is like roses that light up even the blue;
Each word through the benedict, bloodshot, and beautiful lips is as powerful as kindled ember.
Long cherishable moments have surely been accumulated,
Occasions housed in a paper with burnt corners.
Veritable and pulmonary they are. But not charitable one collected.
Extraordinary are you!! Oh Goddess of my heart which you have garnered.
But to the long list which I have admonished and powers my craving for you,Its this, seemingly, the end?
This poem is also available on Tell a tale.
Throwback to the time of penning longer poems.
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© Vrushab Rao 2017
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