In the magic of fiction, where imagination dances between fantasy and realism, I existed in the path of hope, touching the ordinary ground, while you lived in the ink of hope, dancing through pages waiting to unfold.
Through the Hall I danced, you through the dreams, a tale, a figment, a light felt. Boundaries blurred, fiction and reality alive, telling stories waiting to be told.
In a world of desire and dreams, our paths crossed, but did they truly meet? Within the pages where dreams are spun, a girl reads, and in her mind, a world begun.
Imagined lands where characters thrive, her heart learns to dream in tales where love transcends the written stage. Yet, he's but words, a tale held dear, a love unseen but in her heart, sincere.
Ink-stained whispers tell of love untold, sonnets of stories where dreams unfold. Solace found in printed lines, a love real within the world confined.
In simple words, a tale of love takes part, a sonnet for the girl with books, her heart.
.
.
.
.
I know starting three paragraphs are same from the previous poem but the others are different so I hope you enjoy it. 🥰☺