While it was a storm, I took her hand,
holding tight, I promised I’ll be along.
Why not a walk when the day was calm,
my answers lie in the storm, in the walk along.
Every speck of sand that blew, rubbed me hard.
The gushing winds jeered and mocked.
Draped by me, she wondered,
why my aegis, why my clout.
Hadn’t she a clue, of the bulging storm,
in spite of her suffocation, I held her tightly in my palm.
In a tussle amongst interest and interference,
my angel, thought Iam the latter,
when still, my answers lie in the storm, in the walk along.
Ripping below, uprooting around, merciless was the storm,
she was safe, but her tempers warm.
Still hand in hand, when she said,
blame the water, blame the sand,
castles on the shore, weren’t to stand.
Shattered a million, I walked along,
few tears that rolled, were robbed by the storm.
Still hand in hand.
Kissing us goodbye, it blessed us with calm,
I eased my palm, to realize,
with the storm, she too was gone.
Never to return, to listen,
what I had to say after the storm.
In love I succeeded, only to lose her,
In love I failed, only to lose her,
always a paradox,
Iam still writing.
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