One day into the photo album

One day ,
With bloomed roses on hand
Having a swear from the water
She had a look at me
From the picture
And said , " I'm not dead yet;
The each and every roses
Planted by me into your heart
When blooms and
Will be aromatic your life
With it's aroma
Just you feel
At the very time
I'll be at your heartbeat."
I saw her
Just saw her for hours
Fearlessly she saw me back
Till long without blinking
With a bit agonies
I got hurt inner in to me
I kept my face down
Into her vail
And tried to find
The roses planted by her
Into my heart
I saw there lots of ugly roses
They all were
About to wither
Being smellless
How sad !!
I felt The beauty is in seight
Instead of in rose
And the smell in fragnance
Loosing to which
I found
A secret that-
'The beauty of the roses
Is only an illution.'
And then
I turned over the page
Of my photo album .

No comments: