My Muse

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Human beings are complex creatures very difficult to understand, and even more difficult to bond and to love. Each carries a universe in his or her eyes. If you look carefully, you can foretell what secrets, pain, struggle and the weight of unheard stories they carry in their heart. They say- you need to bare yourself to others so people can dissect your personality to know you better.

But is it so? Is it that difficult to understand a person, without speaking much? I differ with this opinion because, I always had intimate connections with people I never spoke much to, as it makes you wonder how they are, what they think of you which gives ample of opportunities to observe.

To keep your mind and eyes open to the little details they leave behind. And some become a beautiful subject, while others become your muse. This little piece is dedicated to one such person that I’d love to call my muse.

The woman held this effortless charm which twinkled even when she howled.

Though I being the dominant one, easily gave in and allowed her to vent,

Since it was one such side of hers that people rarely came across.

Which meant- You were special enough to see the theatrical display of her emotions.

I haven’t necessarily felt what it is to be loved but when she ranted it felt warm,

Which could make your thick blood flow like a river of elixir.

It felt good, nice, a bit gentle like it felt when we were young.

I knew, I loved her and this wasn’t momentary love,

It was one such feeling that could only be felt and not expressed.

And feelings were supposed to be felt in the centre of your heart and never to put on display.

Dedicated to my loving sister.

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