There will be ups and downs too
My love, I will still be standing by you.
Even when the dark will prevail, with a shadowy veil;
Surpassing the odds, blowing away smoky trail,
Will still hold your hand and mend those promises so true
With all my heart, I will love you.
There will be blames and unknown fears too
My love, I will still be standing by you.
When your hopes will shatter and heart be numb,
When love will be subdued and emotions will succumb,
Knowing the cons and the distance that grew
With all my heart, I will love you.
There will be a time, tough and unavoidable too
My love, I will still be standing by you.
When decisions will differ and fight will grow,
When anger and arguments will supplant the rosy flow;
Amidst the gloomy nights of pangs and blues
With all my heart, I will love you.
There will be heartbreak and sorrow too
My love, I will still be standing by you.
When norms will take a toll on mind and heart will be cold,
Melting the barriers of thorns, I will hum our story so old,
Hoping you will remember me and lovely moments few,
With a broken heart and an empty soul, My love, I will still love you.
Things went magically insane the very moment someone's presence rejuvenated life back into the dead city of mine. A gush of wind passed by in the wind hushing some symphony of belongingness. I stood still for a while in amusement looking at the way things were around, all of a sudden. The sick old tree beside the lake had tiny green leaves peeping out from the lifeless branch. The heart sighed after a long; the change was for good. It was almost evening and the dark didn't scare me. The lonely cuckoo was duetting with some other bird which I failed to recognize. My world was getting dipped into the leftover of the sunset, all magical and bright. Almost a month passed since that day. Today, the wind reminded me of that time when he arrived with hands full of amusement, restlessness, sparkles and magic. The wind is crisp and soothing, despite all the heated situations in between. May be it's not the city, may be it's not the wind nor even those golden hues. May be it is ...
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