Today was unbearable,

or so I had thought,

Until I saw you,

and,

you were nothing plain,

or extraordinary either,

But you alone in that worn out blouse was enough to make me forget-

that 24 weeks left written in my life span was dreadful.

In the still of this quiet evening,

however

my smile died,

and I was suddenly terrified.

Your beauty was more than your still gaze,

Or even your red cheeks.

Or your two lips,

that shut a tight line.

The breathtaking pink carnations in front of you,

Twirled on in the summer breeze,

spared no thoughts to you.

But I did.

And so I thought,

If seasonal flowers die after their time has come.

What more mere beings.

We are, after all, God’s creations.

And in every beginning, there is bound to be an ending.

I gave up counting,

And focused more on what to give.

There is time-

There is dreams.

There is sufferings-

There is anger.

And there is regrets, told and untold,

hated, and loved.

But what I wanted to do -

is that

I want to give you

all of my final piece.

All of my time,

dreams,

sufferings,

anger,

And regrets too-

all of it-

to a girl whose name I did not know.

The night finally fell,

And I was never this illuminated.

I would come back to the flower garden,

Where I first lay eyes on you,

where hope meant more than luck.

And then there will be no more regrets,

And then there will be only tears.

If I hurt you,

it won’t matter.

Because,

By being this selfish,

I have given my everything to you.

This is my first

To feel longing of a new day.

I close my eyes,

thinking of your sad eyes that never looked at me.

And in my wishful dream,

I have no ending.

And neither do us.