My muse has left the city since the day you lost your home. (Read Caption) You never loved anyone. How can you understand my pain. A 17 year old boy muttered these painful words telling me about pain and love. I said nothing. Coz I was telling him about the burns of love so he rejected my pleas like the debris at every corner, he ever took. I wanted to tell him, it will burn you if you nested a candle. The fire won't just consume you but you will melt like it's pain. The first thought came running to me was of you in my eyes and I thought. Did I really ever loved you, did I? But certainly, I have felt that pain, the dried words cried when I written your name on them. Sometimes I roam around the city to get my eyes wet just to belief, why I felt, what I felt, to make sure I know the reason. And belief is often the death of reason. How can I forget when the clouds of love fell upon me, I became the condensed version of milky way in your distant galaxy and the gravity burned the edges of my metaphors with parallel tangents crossing the evening sun into a beautiful bleeding rose pouring love on the horizon meeting sky. And like the one in a million, I shined bright to be a sun burning myself into your universe and like the planets you revolved around me smiling from the 300 feet distance that I can still see but I can't feel myself draining in your magnetic aura.
