Faith is fragile yet strong. A rupturous awaiting. That ruptures not so effortlessly. It's excitement, It's boredom. It's pleasure and monotony. It's grief, it's victory. It conquers and it let go. A paradoxical symphony, Bitter yet sweet.
When the sun shone,the moon blushed. But.. Was it really the Sun who shone? Or Really the moon who blushed? Or Was it you who shone, Or I who blushed? Ok,let's go with what the world says-"when the Sun shone,the moon blushed".