Awake

Her beauty in the eyes

Hurts my wit to control drops

Of tears shedding from inside

To take care of her side

 Cause she knows who I’m

And I know why I should stay

Awake

For her

Photo Credits: weheartit.com

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When You Miss Her?

“How can you sleep when you miss her at the most– still, you don’t know what to do?,” she asked him, lying on his widen chest.

He ceased drinking the bottle of wine he was having, kept it on the table adjacent to their bed, and stared at her eyes. She tightened her arms around his body, as much as she can, and waited for a sec to listen to him. He said, “Honey, I would, maybe, think of the priceless memories we had together. It’ll certainly hurt me– she’s miles away from me. But I know how it feels to be with her, at least in those limited pictures of her silliness I’ve captured by my mind. I know it. Because she knows it– how I feel about her, too.”

Photo Credits: lauramakabresku

Nameless Writer

I’m a nameless writer

She is my sole subject

A few characters, in addition

To attach a life in to a story

And here is my life story

That lives inside my soul

Rolls in and out for a flow

Which reflects the minutes

Already passed, and days, years

Yet to come, to spill the ink

On that white paper, where I write

But the naughtiness of ink

Clears the beauty of my thoughts

To showcase an imaginary

Tale, still to be written

With the same characters

Blends by the changes in their lives

From being natural to artificial

Clears their past to present

To accept my story smells with her scent.

Photo Credits: Mind Matter