If it's all just the play of colours,
let me,
Be the artist of your life.
Handle me the pallet, and let me fill the grey depletion in your heart with all the merry hues.
Paint the years-long paleness on your cheeks with the rosiness of hope and love.
Shade in the long left bleak corners of your angstful eyes with stellar colours of nonchalance.
If it's the shape that matters,
Let me,
Collect the broken pieces of your dreams that fell past the grounds you've settled to, bits by bits, although unartistically, but aesthetically.
The twisted and tormented insight of yours dangling under the burden of responsibilities stretch into the light of mirth and gratification.
Lend me your hand for a while, and
Discover all the uncovered path.
Walk against the stormy wind with eyes wide open.
Breathe in the energy that the universe is radiating for you.
Walk past the spiny nightmares to get wind that how beautiful your reveries are!
Whilst you bother about the lost star's shine,
Let me explore the whole new multiverse in you. Let me, just let me help you.