1d
I wondered, tenderly,
About our love—how was it?
A fire igniting in mere seconds,
We became light... and we became...
And had people seen us,
They would have said:
"Smoke of smoke..."
And where was that place?
Was it an ancient tree trunk,
Or a shepherd’s home,
Wrapped in songs?
Then suddenly, it turned into a festival...
Wherever our steps had danced,
Wherever our scent had spilled,
And two roses had blossomed,
We became its candle stands,
Offering light, until we became...
Wherever our steps had danced,
Two stars unfurled...
Wherever our scent had spilled,
And two roses had blossomed...
And the night knows that we,
Were its candle stands,
Offering light, until we became—
The night’s dimples...
About our love—how was it?
A fire igniting in mere seconds,
We became light... and we became...
And had people seen us,
They would have said:
"Smoke of smoke..."
And where was that place?
Was it an ancient tree trunk,
Or a shepherd’s home,
Wrapped in songs?
Then suddenly, it turned into a festival...
Wherever our steps had danced,
Wherever our scent had spilled,
And two roses had blossomed,
We became its candle stands,
Offering light, until we became...
Wherever our steps had danced,
Two stars unfurled...
Wherever our scent had spilled,
And two roses had blossomed...
And the night knows that we,
Were its candle stands,
Offering light, until we became—
The night’s dimples...
"This poem is a romantic reflection on love that once was. Was it light or mere smoke? A memory or a festival of emotions? Sometimes, love leaves behind a glow, like candle stands lighting up the darkness. Have you ever felt that love continues to shine, even after it fades?"
