༺Masterpiece༻

III : Classroom

"That night
When the rain was heavy,
I waited for you;
Under that lamppost, still.

I was waiting for the
Moment
When you'll come back to me;
Riding the winds,
The gales.

That evening
When the stars lit
The tenebrous sky,
I waited for you,
Under that lamppost.
I still retain feelings.

I am still waiting for the
Moment
When I'll call you mine, again;
When you'll wrap me in your
Embrace
And say, 'Today was a long day.'
Under that lamppost,
We met."

⊱ ───ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ─── ⊰

The rain was pouring quite heavy, clouding the sun away from the sky but the canopy of the nebulous sorrow, that etched in her, had its own specific weight.

It has been raining for three days and although people would want it to stop, she wished it went on for the eternity.

The aching pain she held in her little heart, seemed to dry off all the beautiful shades on her face, leaving it as pale and gloomy as the sickness that promised death.

Not that her inner self wasn't crumbling at the thought of the war, which had raged up like a tincture of fire in a rampage of dead debris.

Yet the remorseful love she had for him, kept on pouring from her pen, as she wrote her 5th epistle of the day.

The military caravan was going to take posts tomorrow and she had to let her love know, that she is still his.

It hurts her to call herself his, but her heart belongs to him. And she can't help but think of him and his army.

"The night will end, won't it?
You'll be back, won't you?"

⊱ ───ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ─── ⊰

"Excuse me?" I completed my sketch of a girl on her desk on my notebook when a tap on my shoulder pulled my attention.

"Yes?" I questioned back, not knowing the person, to whom the voice belonged, was my new art professor. Being lost in my world of imaginations was my best friend and my worst enemy. I stood up and bowed down, realising how rude it might appear for me to inquire him without any honorifics.

"I'm so sorry, Professor. I... I didn't notice your presence here and heavily apologize for the inconvenience I caused." I apologized to the man with a semi bow.

"It's okay, young man. Show me what had you focused so well." I passed my sketch book to him. He studied the woman's sketch I made with an ink pen, typically my leisure genre.

"Beautiful! Who were you thinking of? This style represents 1950s." Said the professor, admiringly.

"Hmm... I actually don't know whom I drew. This could be any random girl or maybe my mum from when she was young." I responded.

"Great. You're the new admission?"

"Yes, sir."

"Please come to the middle and introduce yourself." With that said, I walked to the centre of the hall. All the eyes in the class, turned towards me, as if I stood there like some celebrity under limelight.