The Triumph of the Will

The quill felt cozy,

Embracing the warmth of his fingers,

The ink dripped,

Eager with expectations,

His command over language returned.

The maple wood didn’t break,

The strings wouldn’t corrode,

Ever eager for his return,

When he put the bow to the string,

The music was as enchanting as ever.

The audience held their breath,

His supporters wouldn’t leave him,

Their applause never meant to be withheld,

No wasted actions, no wasted words,

He was the orator they always knew.

The sacrifices were made,

They knew he wouldn’t notice,

But that didn’t perturb them,

Their love was rewarded,

When they had their friend back.

The dreams were back,

The universe conspired to help him,

As unfair advantage, life was so not fair,

The fate welcomed him with open arms,

For it is to be The Triumph of the Will

The Mute Lover

It is her face,

I wake up to everyday,

Probably she would say the same.

She is the last person I see,

Before I go to sleep,

Same would hold for her.

I had a good day,

I expect her to smile with me

But she wouldn’t,

Her expression as frozen as ever.

I had a bad day,

Would she hug me,

Or console me with soft words?

She wouldn’t even inch a little bit.

I missed her all day,

I tell her so,

She doesn’t even care to respond.

I hold back no more,

And confess, I love her,

She doesn’t even blink in acknowledgement.

She just stays the same

And stares back,

Frozen in her expression,

Mute in her responses.

Though she stands a pure display of love,

But would not say so,

Stays indifferent and impassive to my moves,

And apathetic to my emotions.

Alas, what more can I expect,

From just A Picture of Her.

Missing You

The mess is noisy,

And the friends are nosy,

Why do I feel so lonely,

Even with so much company?

The chair beside me is empty,

The bed is as tidy as it was in the morning,

The dryness in my lips,

Everything about me reeks with the way I am Missing You.

Every step I take, every page I flip,

Everything I touch, every breath I take in,

It’s a silent but a relentless reminder,

I am missing you.

I speak of you all the time,

With my friends, with my sisters, even with strangers,

They probably know by now,

How much I am Missing You.

Every person I meet,

Every phone call I answer,

Every message I receive,

I see a part of you even though you are nowhere around.

Every song I listen to, every video I watch,

No matter what the distraction,

You are a constant presence in my mind,

And a staunch cue of how much I am Missing You.

You are everywhere I go,

You are everything I see,

But then, I know, you are nowhere nearby,

Probably just a souvenir, that I am Missing You.

The Blossom

A single red one would have sufficed,

He didn’t know that,

Neither could she tell him so,

The friend on phone was a bad mediator.

As he hesitantly bought the flowers,

She danced, at the prospect of his actions,

She danced, wondering not much of his intentions,

She danced, she danced a happy dance.

The company had been pleasant,

And separation painful,

Neither could either even make a guess,

What the destiny had for them.

Not the first time he gave a girl flowers,

Nor her first time receiving some,

But then for the both of them,

It was the only one that blossomed.

When the stars shined down,

As the silent companion watched,

She took the flowers and smiled,

Her smile, the Blossom of the flowers,

And the flowers of Love were full at Bloom.

Her Chocolate Brown Eyes

Her chocolate brown eyes,

The blush of the falling leaves of autumn,

Teeters me on the brink of an abyss,

An eternity has been lost,

Just to take them in.

Her chocolate brown eyes,

The dye of shallow brown sapphires,

Studded with a distant dreamy look,

Lighting the darkest of the night,

Like little brown twinkling stars.

Her chocolate brown eyes,

The stain of pearls out of a hazelnut,

So unnatural yet breathtaking,

A nightmare set in motion,

Yet poetry personified.

Her chocolate brown eyes,

The hue of melting honey,

The color so betraying,

Yet the temptation so unbearable,

Even the honey bees are deceived.

Her chocolate brown eyes,

The tint of a perfect chocolate,

The sight of them,

Like a Boyfriends Bournville,

Not meant to be shared with anyone else.

Her chocolate brown eyes,

The shade of maple wood of my violin,

Humming the perfect musical note,

That, even a careless glance is enough,

To make the flowers of my garden to bloom.

Her chocolate brown eyes,

Every time I look at them,

Makes me wish, more and more,

That I be the apple of her eyes,

The apple of Her Chocolate Brown Eyes.

The Silent Companion

He stood there watching,

As the boy and girl talked.

He silently heard the girls story,

He sensed the boys concern for her.

He watched them become friends,

He witnessed them fall in love.

He saw the boys eyes,

Neither did he miss the girls smile.

Before the either could even guess,

He knew what it was,

That bound them together.

He wished he could smile,

When the boy made a wish upon the shooting star.

He saw the boy give her roses,

But did not muff the girls blush.

He foresaw them holding hands.

He wished he could give them a little privacy,

When they kissed under the moonlight.

Frozen though, as he was,

He stood a silent guardian,

A silent companion,

 To the best story,

Love has ever told.

A Lot Can Happen Over Coffee

A casual invitation,

Politely accepted,

No expectations,

Just a cup of coffee.

I was not The Gentleman,

Neither was she The Lady,

We were just ourselves,

With no fear of being judged.

We were perfect strangers,

And had a lot to tell the other,

When she spoke, I listened,

When I did, she returned the favor.

The guard was down,

No secrets were withheld,

Nor any lies spoken,

Just like speaking to the mirror.

Somewhere between the occasional sips,

Innocent smiles and the long talk,

We fell in love,

Over a cup of coffee.