These lips retain their colour interlocked with yours;
Seal them,
And let not our colours fade.

One look at you—
And time to me, seems a follower of yours,
For your mesmerizing, comely appearance
Which enraptures every ticking heart
For sure has ensnared time's—
For it so seems that
He's stopped the march of advancing age
From reaching your youthful mien
So you may parade your timeless beauty
Across this globe inspiring life,
Showcasing the victory you hold over time.

Trust is necessary in guiding
The ink to give meaningful forms
To words written in darkness.

I shall compare myself to an unsharpened pencil
Brimming with potential to sketchingly write.
Yet,
All of it unconveyed,
Encompassed in my receptacle—
So long as I
remain unsharpened.

An unscathed voice—not mine—
Had been stumbled upon.
With "The odds stacked against us"
Oh wait! but are they, really?
For how does a mind learn
If it hasn't lived an entire beat.

Words rearranged by your lips;
Carried by the medium called fate
Have found a home, eventually.
And though you hold an exalted tongue
And although I don't apprehend.
A grass under a tree
Appreciates a warmer shade.