If we spoke how we used to,
And laughed
And cried
And thought how we used to,
This distance wouldn’t be so big.

If only we weren’t so close,
I guess,
This distance wouldn’t be so big.

What’s The Fear?

A gal with beauty and fine veneer
Visage serene, manner sincere
Smile so warm, and speech so clear
A shot of mirth, a dose of cheer
Look closer, what you see here?
A wretched soul with mighty fear.

Fear? Is it so what you say?
Oh yes, you’d see her rock and sway
Now near and now away
Getting rigid, giving leeway
Wanting to have it all her way
Yet mellowing down anyway.

What’s the fear? Tell me more
It lies within, at the very core
Locked inside, in safe store.
Only at times, she lets it pour,
Fiercely hunting for the cure
In the ocean, on the shore.

Oh I wonder what’s the reason…
Well you see, she tasted treason;
Onslaught of the bitter season
Gave her dark and deep lesion
Clouded matters and decision,
Blurring all her lucid vision.

Is there more or is that all?
More my dear, out there’s a wall
Rough and barbed, and jagged and tall
What lies ahead is many a fall
Stakes are high and margins small
It was always tough, now I recall.

Oh don’t you riddle! What made her mope?
Her love left when she lit her hope
Broken, she could just not cope
So she stretched her arm to grope
For things that were once in her scope
At last, she won and caught the rope.

Is it so? Then why the jitters?
She knows that he is yet not hers
Trust is weak and doubt just stirs
Negotiations follow every verse
Hopes do gather, but then disperse
She frets all day and drums her fingers.

I see… The concern seems legit
You see, his love has a limit
He will not go beyond to fit
In the frame, and submit.
He’d rather choose to stop and quit
Than lose his pride and his wit.

Does she have any such bar?
Oh yes, though it may sound bizarre
The door of prospect stands ajar.
Bound by laws, whatever they are,
It could just shut on fate star
Dousing her fire, planting a scar.

Well, what about a compromise?
It can be reached if one tries
Both of them weigh the price
– there the lows, here the highs.
What a pity if their love dies!
Mourning will fill the crimson skies.

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