Blown away in a moment, asunder,
by a breeze with a feel of shudder.
Blown from within the bone,
above my head, transparently shown.
I'm being ripped from tip to toe,
like from mother, without a woe.
The gush, it rings in the ears,
the stream is absent of my deepest fears.
Got rived - it was like nothing else;
Blown away in a second,
apart from all my cells.
Like silk in the hands of a weaver,
it is pleasant, yet I shiver.
Like a cup of cold water after a mint,
all across my body, comfortably skinned.
I didn't knew that I'll get clutched,
I never asked, to be touched.

This is my quod of secrets untold.
An ode to my heart rived by memories of old.
Now the moment calls for me to finally write,
The dubiousness of the quirks I spite.

It was the height within the octave of the decade,
When my ticker suddenly strayed.
I got caught in an eros I deemed true,
An instant juncture that I hadn't got a clue.

That wight I stumbled across with was amiable and vigorous.
Who ventured to garner my sentiments which made me ambiguous.
Who intoned some hymns with gracious prance,
Hoping to hook my regards with a chance.

I unbolted my heart to let that wight in,
Layed my cards and hopes in all that could have been.
I deduced it was something I could keep.
So I quashed my uncertainties and took the leap.

But I never knew until it was too late,
The risk had passed, I fancied the ardor I thought was sincere and great.
Myself waned in those words felt and spoken.
Never anticipated my heart and innocence would be broken.

If only there's another shot unused to tweak my adjudications,
I would permute them without hesitation.
If that would be the scheme to liberate my heart,
I would partake in all of its parts.

Of all the things time can tell,
Above is the list I unconsciously dwell.
It may be so dense in pushing them off the cliff,
but these are the questions I start with "what if".

When I behold the furthest shooting star
I wonder then; if best this heart be too
and beat beyond, where time and love are far
and leaves behind the maze, some lover drew.

Then I imagine space, as void of pain
and place my racing star on course to there,
that swiftly 'rived would heal as fast that came
dispose then back; into the Venus' lair.

Tho' love if idle long, is worse to reign;
what kingdom rules a chest without a heart.
Then take from love, is too that grief shall gain,
no shooting star could render this apart.

Tho' take mine briefly where no scar is known
But have then back; to grieve in lovers' own.