When it's a sweet end and another sweet beginning, the eyes that could see many things can shroud them without a chance.
The wind can't be the wind-
that have soothed you before.
The rain can't be the rain-
that have made you wet before.
The sun can't be that the warmth
that kept you packed in deadly winters.
The mist can't be seen again
that made your autumn mornings fine.
And so are some people-
who were once your wind
who were once your rain
who were once your sun
who were once your mist
and a fine morning
or a perfect evening
they approach you, with apprehensions
they did arrive themselves
in hope to alter and shatter you.
Later she succumbed herself
with stronger beliefs
she doesn't need any more travel together
she doesn't need any more time together
she doesn't need any more of anything.
Yet again, she did know-
Every little girl is nothing less
to a wave, and so was she
and did she know
if her eyes could see many things,
it can shroud them too.
Yet again he made her laugh and fall.
Yet again he made her impossibly ideal.
Yet he made her timeless spirits dance.
And finally he made her unearth
all the earth she saw before.
And, well it's a sweet end and beginning.
© Parvathy Ramachandran
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