Where else, where else on land;
Can I find something so delicate and rare,
That can slip through my fingers like the sand,
But its atmosphere reviving like the oxygen in the air.
It had no colour , it had no figure,
It had no symmetry , it had no smell,
It had no definition though it had a trigger;
What kept me alive but you couldn't tell...
Inside it, my existence I'd confine-
It had unlocked so many doors...
I feared to enter, 'cause only for so long you were mine,
But still I lost myself in a love like yours.
YOU ARE READING
Whiffs Of NostAlgiA
Poetry...memories , memories, memories.. that's all they are now isn't it...
