What I am looking for,
Not another mirage in the desert,
Not another illustrious illustration,
Not dramatic upheavals,
Not honeyed hives.
I want calm in chaos,
Stability in the disorients,
The frontiers in the woods seems lost,
Whereas they were meant to hold the light for the lost ones.
I want the seventeen year old in the thirty seven guy.
I want your inner child to play with mine.
The boy is pushing the swing,
The girl is giggling in joy.
Utterly an heavenly feelings.
The girl didn’t think what’s coming forth.
She would lose a piece of her,
A playmate, a guardian, a shelter whom the gods favoured.
Now, she has a piles of complains.
She screams her heart out in woe,
Asks only one question,
Why?
There’s no reply.
Not even the heavens shiver in her loss,
Shakes in pain.
She is still looking a love like a seventeen year old.
Her inner child is broken.
It wants to hang in the air.
The love that doesn’t want to control makes us fall uncontrollably.
Love that doesn’t want to bind us bonds like no other.
A feather flown faraway.
©® Farheen Akter Bhuian Nancy
Timestamp: 10.10 am, T-4