Our story is beyond perfection,
As untouched by the fingers of reality
Our story never dies
In the whirl between tenderness and brutality
A fabric spun with threads of your memories
I would cloak myself in my dark times
Or in thoughts of solitude sometimes
Try to figure us out in rhymes
They say if it stays, it is love
A tale of passion, unclaimed
On the contrary, if it ends, it is a love story
A transient dream, forever unnamed.
But ours is like a song with no lyrics
A soft hum in the distance
What never begins, is poetry,
An immortal existence.
Niharika Prasad
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