Gazes
Unattended gazes match the right person,
so the alarms and bells start ringing,
overlapping and underlapping,
secrets of gestures start to contain.
Within the charm of bashfulness,
the desires flourish,
not a single person is aware
of the tendered gazes exchanging.
No one is aware,
no one is making a sound,
only the rhythm in my heart is at its peak,
peeking at you to steal your gaze.
What shall I call when my heart
is alarmed at your touch.
At your embrace of looks from far,
you said not a single word,
but there I stood,
understanding it all.
I stared at your shades,
at your intense color change.
I was assured,
you, I want to explore.
Cascading time, paces away,
Starting to make me feel intense.
Can I stay or is it wrong?
Can I be or is it ill?
What sort of relationship is this?
Again our gazes meet,
you smile at me,
knowingly I smile at you,
unknowingly we breathe,
that's my yearning soul,
craving to reach you.
As days pass by,
the flare of emotions
isn't contained anymore.
Instantly I realize my place,
my place for you,
your place in me.
Unattended gazes match the right person,
yet we deviate.
He isn't made for me,
torture and suffering, aren't his.
Then the alarms and bells start ringing,
overlapping and underlapping,
secrets of gestures start to explode within,
how gazes can be controlled?
Within the gloom of desperation,
the desires tend to die.
Not a single person is aware,
not a single cry.
The tendered gaze,
exchanges no more.
Attends to no more glow,
I know I need to walk away,
and leave the floor.
He stands near the aisle,
I am unable to walk down the lane,
May I take upon a mask,
shield all my desires.
The lock upon the elements,
that choose you to admire.
At your embrace of looks from far,
I said not a single word,
but there you stood,
understanding it all.
Unattended gazes match the right person,
so the alarms and bells start ringing,
overlapping and underlapping,
secrets of gestures start to contain.
The End!
{Cover- Image from Pexels}
Theme of the poem: A poem dedicated to our beloved. Nothing is more precious than them, but nothing is more important than what we feel. When we feel that we aren't right for them, this poem is a tribute to such feelings which start to re-write our story all over again. We have no control over it yet we are the squished in it, maybe along with them.
