The Writer

The silent, spectator the weak guardian of yours the dumb who lives invisible in the class of few.

Mesmerized by your smile, 

I get lost in daydreams as you made 

a deep impact while enacting 

as a new leader in school.

The silky tone, of the unreachable beauty.

was not of any enchantment to me. 

As you were extraordinary than just 

the reaction of a hormone.

The swinging amnesia gazes of yours, at my foul soul, was a vivid feast of hell in heavenly pain for me.

As the wall of status stood between us.

It was an accident, where I met a class of angels, with me being the ordinary in the race of elegant group.

Where the pen and paper, all I have got.

Eternity separated, it was hard to say bye at a young age.

But evolution, United us. Art got evolved in humans' life. But our relationship never got evolved in the disconnected hearts of connected minds.

It took courage to fish you, in the virtual world. Where the identity of many remains a mystery, with me choosing to remain a silent admirer.

Alas, pen and paper connected both of us. Where you reveal the uncovered stories to the world. My stories remain unpublished, for the one reader who always was you.

Sixteen has turned into sixty. Time doesn't have patience in love. But emotions and memory lay the foundation.

True love is always suffering when it goes unrevealed. Some lead a life of adjustment and acceptance.

Some get united in the name, of traditions and get detached when the lies fade with time.

Few accept, demise and physical loneliness as a pair with the aging disease.

But very few others choose the path of memory and fantasy. Where pen and paper belong to them, as they script the life, which time failed to script in reality.