Chronicle Of Love
She had been suffering,The broken relationships under the cracked memoirsBones almost plunderedWith the fearful hopes, anxious, doubtful all the way So I slowed down a little bit,With fragments of kissesWith delicate touches of makeover trialsWith the letters denote something like love or etc. Smell of nights, music of movementsWritten poems underneathLike few lonely stars and cupboard stories of heavenly bodies,Not so useful yet essential for the time being. So she lifted her pale blue eyesLike men on wary lands, painful yet with some remote dreamsWith folded arms and keeping space between;Not for me, but to remember her story still. Written By NilavroNill ShoovroChronicle Of Love