He once wrote the words
Mutters the mantras
And to sky he hailed upon
He once wrote the words
Preach the others
And to songs he sang along
He once wrote the words
Beautify the verses
And to universe he flew around
.
.
.
Never he did touch the ground
Neither he reached stars abound
.
.
.
She came into his life. In colours that he never imagined of seeing. In form he never dreamed of loving. The faultless visage, the enticing forage, the undiscovered language. She is a book of foreign charms that he never feels but always seeks. She is not just a person who exists for the sake of existing. But she is a brute force that fights all odds against her favor.
She paved the way of her own, on her own.
She is a fighter, a master of tenacity and sagacity.
She hoisted the flag brazenly deep inside the land of emptiness and vacancy.
She is the sparks of the torch
The avid climbers of the crest
...
And suddenly, the stars are the brightest no more