You were written all over my face
On the broad forehead
With a pen permeating love, profoundly
Fitting an array of stars in straight line
With flying colours.
Piercing the heart,
Yet too bright for the rest to read.
Too delicate to deliver in the news,
But heavy enough for breaking hearts
At the climax of a novel
When the writer leaves
And passes the baton
To the reader and his imagination
For building a home
Where she witnesses
Sunsets with him.
To shift the paradigm to when
The flowers in his garden bloom
To garland her
And the galaxy bows before her grace.
In awe of her–the ethereal enigma
We came to the conclusion
No words can weigh in
And carry her wonder
We'll put up feigned politicians
And their fake promises instead

Summit Hasan carries a torch for someone since childhood, which gets him carried away consistently. Bring him back to his senses at [email protected].