" inachevé ".
She's like a poem, left unspoken, and words, unsaid. Beause, may be the creator couldn't accept, his work was so beautiful. She has the beauty, you live to see, and die, before you can feel even the vibes of it.
Sometimes, I try to go back to the moment, where I found her, for since then, I feel like I am living a Fantasy. Life changes. Yeah, it could be a little slow, but happens for sure. And for me, it happened right when she passed by me, leaving me sedated, to the very presence of her.
I look through her eyes, every night as she slips into the illusions that her mind plays. Her face is like an intoxicating art, you just cant look away. You get hooked and lost to the very beauty of her eyes, perfect ovals beneath those eye brows, with a nose that's like a compliment, which slides your attention down to her soft lips. You cannot ignore how her hair falls down, over her cheeks, like just the exact number of strands, needed to make her look breathtaking. And its like magic, like how every thing happens exactly at that 'one moment', as if the whole universe has taken up the job to make her look 'unfathomable'. The air, it flows over her cheeks, brushing her hair; her eyes, stealthy and deep, beneath those lashes; her hand, reaching out to tug the strands, behind her ear; her smile, pushing her lips wider , and everything, everything happens at once. Its much more than what you could ever imagine, of a woman.
Somethings are meant to be serene, like simply, unruffled. The problem with us is that we like something until we possess it, and once we own it, the interest receeds. And, that is why, the love that two people could never make together is always the famous one. Because it is incomplete, it leaves you wondering and pondering, guessing the ending.
She is the masterpiece of an unappreciated artist, a dance of the dead, and a song, unsung.
- Azad Hussain @ smokeofsulphur.blogspot.in
She's like a poem, left unspoken, and words, unsaid. Beause, may be the creator couldn't accept, his work was so beautiful. She has the beauty, you live to see, and die, before you can feel even the vibes of it.
Sometimes, I try to go back to the moment, where I found her, for since then, I feel like I am living a Fantasy. Life changes. Yeah, it could be a little slow, but happens for sure. And for me, it happened right when she passed by me, leaving me sedated, to the very presence of her.
I look through her eyes, every night as she slips into the illusions that her mind plays. Her face is like an intoxicating art, you just cant look away. You get hooked and lost to the very beauty of her eyes, perfect ovals beneath those eye brows, with a nose that's like a compliment, which slides your attention down to her soft lips. You cannot ignore how her hair falls down, over her cheeks, like just the exact number of strands, needed to make her look breathtaking. And its like magic, like how every thing happens exactly at that 'one moment', as if the whole universe has taken up the job to make her look 'unfathomable'. The air, it flows over her cheeks, brushing her hair; her eyes, stealthy and deep, beneath those lashes; her hand, reaching out to tug the strands, behind her ear; her smile, pushing her lips wider , and everything, everything happens at once. Its much more than what you could ever imagine, of a woman.
Somethings are meant to be serene, like simply, unruffled. The problem with us is that we like something until we possess it, and once we own it, the interest receeds. And, that is why, the love that two people could never make together is always the famous one. Because it is incomplete, it leaves you wondering and pondering, guessing the ending.
She is the masterpiece of an unappreciated artist, a dance of the dead, and a song, unsung.
- Azad Hussain @ smokeofsulphur.blogspot.in
