Into the shallow, I sailed,
Beneath the soil, I lay soiled,
Lost into the mountains, I wandered,
Numb and Cold as death , I was stoned into ,
and then from beyond the clouds sun arrived,
bees as usual swarmed and cuckoos flied ,
And In the loving memory of myself i died
And in the loving memory of myself I died,
Like the first rays of early morning sun , decked up with last rays of twilight , she arrived. It was a delight to see as the last rays with the first rays fought to survive as none were ready to leave her . For all the time, i am looking to express the vivacities of her demeanour and unfortunately what i found were few words , also fighting to survive.
With her incandescent grace . She shoved the gates of coffee shop. she sahshayed as if gods were playing ballad , and most probabbly they were also crooning to her tunes as the tempo seemed to follow her walks. they say beauty lies in eye of beholder , how fool they all are , because all those days it was beholder incapicitated by the beauty's eye . But then if this was also beauty , then all those days i was despised.
I stood up because it was not yet another silver lining in the cloud , but a cloud looking for its silver lining. I don't know whether she ever realizes that a universe surrounds her , but the truth is she really seems to not realize that universe surrounds her.
Figuring her in her scarlet tees, blue jeans and slippers , I atleast realized that touchups and glows , mascara and brows , and left all those can just draw few silver linings, clouds have their own show.She walked quite nonchalantly.Her hairs were knotted at back with two curls ruffling in front of her eyes.They were not an attempt to expose her charms , but flying with the wind not caring about tides and storms.Her eyes had thin lines of kohl , which were trying to reflect their existence more to her than to anyone else. For a change , she was not having big eyes , they were small and yet quite intense , looking into you or beyond , you never get to know, and yes tender beautiful lips , swivelling somehere between pinkinsh and reddish lore.
After placing her order , she placed her bag at one of the chair , brought outside a Book , The black swan , and then i saw those swan flying and flying into the horizon till black was what left , that i could have contemplated. She placed one of her leg on the side bars of chair , pressed the play button of her mp3 player , sitting in front of me was she, as in between all these , she had traced her way to table in front , like it was all her own bay , and in that moment i felt like
into the shallow, I sailed,
Beneath the soil, I lay soiled,
Lost into the mountains, I wandered,
Numb and Cold as death , I was stoned into ,
and then from beyond the clouds sun arrived,
bees as usual swarmed and cuckoos flied ,
And In the loving memory of myself i died
And in the loving memory of myself I died,
