Looking at the eyes shinning brightly,
As the sound of bells of anklets chimed,
As the dream of perfect love was woven around,
He was cold..
Love?
A heartless monster like him?
She just did not know him,yet he watched her plots and plottings,
Quitely sitting with a bag full of nuts to enjoy..
At times good student crosses teacher..
Once he was the teacher of her ancestor,who had brought a little child,
To a bright realm,while travelling alone..
And watched her grow..
Gone was that life,gone was that time with waves of time..
He watched the remade him fall into this sense of self deprecated love..
May be it was his fault..
That all he knew was love..
But silently he watched,healing the wounds on him,
As the dark threads woven into a cocoon wrapped light inside..
He was also very much a drunkard,
Drinking the derilious dreams..
