Never thought he will meet her on that eventide. She had worn that beautiful long white skirt outfit and the grey cap.
The waves washed her little finger with those ebbs and flows. She doeth know the guy was waiting for her eyes to glide. She never turned up, and still he was holding the red roses to snatch the glance of her eyes. But she was at her dreams, looking at the twilight star setting on the west , her eyes ogled the sleeping sun.
His love was true, his eyes were filled with tears and the roses in the hand were getting ready for their funeral. You can’t keep them live and dry them tomorrow.
When her ego kills your love, the meaning of being loyal, begging for the lost love , and longing for the hugs is just an another suicide of a dead body.
He will continue to write….