Below the night sky.

A Poem by Maharnav

Mostly, I think of you when I am alone and tired of thinking about things that make me sad. I think of you; I think of why I think of you. I do not know you, you clearly never even wanted me to know you. There was no magic, no talking through the eyes. Here we are, two people as straight as parallel lines, obscure of one another's existence while I try to intersect each time. Perhaps, you are the face to all my untamed passion, perhaps the abstract idea of love I made up in my mind. To think of love and fantasies had long lost in my childhood somewhere when I was a humorless, forlorn child with lot to see and understand of that peaceful society of chaos. I imagined a face i can never recall as I read poems and tales of love, but lately that face is your's. Perhaps, you are an illusion; often I think of how you might pass your day, often I think if you think of me and laugh at myself, often I imagine us in situations that are never to occur, in places we shall never be, saying words we will never share. I sometimes want to see you all I can, I want to remember your face forever, every expression, every smile, every blink of your eye. As, forever you shall be the illusion of my life as without you nor the sunlight in winter and neither the rain in spring would make me truly happy.