Among other things life fosters unpredictability.
At times for good, mostly for the worse.
There is a furor against it. An upheaval of emotions searching for the missing
link. In desperation, heartaches and anguish it’s difficult to fall in line
with life as usual. A permanent haze sets in as dusk to a ravishing dawn.
She was a born lover. It was like
a twinkle in her kohl black eyes. From the beginning she opened her arms wide
in joy, overwhelmed with life. Life was a celebration of its colors. The
freedom to dance in the quilt of clouds. In longing to explore the hidden invisible
corners. It was the simplicity of her zeal. The madness of her enthusiasm. And
the mere independence of her style that made her love. In short, life overtook
love.
He too was a born lover. It was
deep inside his nervous heart. From the beginning he stood for his commitment
in all fairness, devotion. Love was beyond everything. Love was a lifelong
worship. It was madness of a different kind. It was a full blown emotionally fulfilling.
In trance he remained. Forever. Oblivious to the mistakes.
She was perched high. With her loud
voice, out in open. There was determination to conquer.
He was slanted low. With his
roaring nervous heart, in longing. There was hope against hope.
She now sleeps in solitude to
live a dream.
He wanders alone to be a part of
the dream.
Both separated by silence. In
waiting he remains to be her sunshine; she his moonlight.
