I know she is not real, Yet,I write for her; She is a figment of my imagination, One of my creation; And Somewhere,Deep inside my mind, Lies a canvas filled with her art; A art,yet to be complete, Where My words work like colors, My pen acts as a brush;And With each word I add; She becomes real, more and more real; And When I will see her in real, I will devote all this to her; For she was the one who, Inspired me in the first place...