its not always black and white

by anubhav srivastava

Countless stars look down at me and the wind is fine and fair,
My hair has grown too long but, see how much I care!
I feel the invisible fingers running through and the lips curved in that gentle smile.
That bleak silhouette of memory doesn't escape me even after I've travelled a thousand miles.
Maybe your heart hurts mine does too, the footsteps towards the threshold and the trembling lips and eyelids.
As good as I am and as burnt as I could be.
Would it slowly fade leaving behind no marks at all or would we someday wake up and remember it all?
Can't help when with the scent I mourn the ones aborted and remember the dreams we lived,
How could I forget all that we conceived!
Does it still hurt? Yes, and it's futile blaming fate. Ever been torn between that which you could not stop loving and that devastating beauty you failed to hate?

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