Wait For You In The Moonlit Night

Moon light shining thin and bright, thinner and a little brighter, this change in intensity being caused due to heavy clouds swarming the dark sky. Stars twinkle some here and there, drenched through holes made by the lace of those thick clouds. They don't stay still for even a single moment. The clouds race past my existence, as if they are on for a win and I am looking at these mysteries with transfixed eyes.

One moon and this huge sky above my head, what courage does it confine in itself, that it has this desire to lull darkness in it's full cry....alone, in the dark...and yet...since centuries, it's fate unsurpassed, it's desire unfulfilled, and it's achievement.... well it doesn't say, actually, it might doesn't even know, it doesn't even care. Seems as if it's happy in what it does, giving out light, without asking anything in return, anything.

And I am watching this extravagant festival of twinkling lights, these shades of blue, moon's indispensable yet obligatory smile, and it makes my heart smile as well, for I see no other reason to make myself aloof of such charismatic event and claim to be unmoved. Oh yes I have a heart, a heart that's got it's own brain, it's own soul, it's own existence.

And my heart tells me to relax, they would be coming soon. They would be on their way. They would make it back in no time.

A few moments later nature turns its tides on my festival. Thicker clouds take their course. They are more subtle and organized; covering the last remaining features of what was once a moon. Darkness crept with all its hideous features and the moon light died faintly, inevitably.

Droplets; the first one struck some where deep in my heart, gave earth its bathe and freshness. It was rain that makes u feel like you are naked when it's cold droplets hit your neck and eventually soak up your clothes; some where some how, they were also immersing my last lingering optimism.

Here I am, in this rain, cold blooded God forsaken rain and..where are you?

My heart, with the slightest remaining stroke of beat makes a sigh. Maybe they would come after this rain, maybe they won’t, maybe they’re stuck. God knows but there might be something obstructing their path, I am not there how would I know. And so, I hold on to this last, faint, slim, enduring feather.

It's been ages now but that feather have not seized to spun it's dances in the air, a territory where even winds have become my enemy, that feather have always been flying, flying with colours, making my heart a feather with it's soar and lift.

People argue and disagree, quarrel and flee, but for this heart to set free...
They say I am a madperson, and yet, I live another day, and die another glee...
Heaven have looked upon my soul, and I have showed no spree
for my heart has his own master, its own door, its own key.