It was a night like every other,
Loud music and mindless chatter.
She sat in one of the darkness illuminated place,
A pen in her hand and lack of thoughts in her head space.
It all seemed sudden and miraculous,
A man appeared with a face of prince but a voice vigorously callous.
Wits matched and names exchanged,
A new universe created and two hearts no longer estranged.
Passion became the language,
Rapidly elevating exhilaration was something their hearts couldn’t manage.
His voice was what she wrote and breathed,
In her conviction and reality he believed.
A meeting of two perfect strangers changed into a fairy tale,
Their bond survived storms, rain and hail.
Until a thunder brewed in their small universe,
Where the man had to choose his traverse.
He turned ahead and walked away,
Leaving her in her self inflicted tornado of despair and dismay.
She plucked courage and wrote again,
Of her soul wrenching loss and a newly forgotten gain.
Pain became her,
And every inch of her became pain.
She thought of making the memory of him just a page in her life’s outlook,
Little did she know he had become the whole book.
Ink stained and pages full,
Of him and to only him, her heart would pull.
Cheers and thunderous applause devoted to her masterpiece,
No one suspected the death of her peace.
The man returned with guilt and a regretful sigh,
Surprised to find that all knew him,
He went to his biggest regret on a curious whim ,
And when he read her poetry,
He knew, if a writer falls in love with you, you can never die.
