In the mist of being

In the mist of being

You are her reasons to smile

Softly and pacifying across.

In the subtle lifting of her hopes

You are the excess of her content

Enigmatically beautiful and clear.

In the world of fear and solitude

You are the pouring rain

Under which she dances her feelings loud.

In the grave of her soul

You are the dry leaves rustling

Bringing her breath alive.

In the oblivion being of you

You are the gems studded on her pride

Conceited of which she hides smiles.

In the coming posterity

You’ll be her long miles

And she, of azure, would consort you right.

– anshita


7 thoughts on “In the mist of being”

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