Pens and Pages

Somewhere far, In another constellation of stars, Maybe you're right And maybe I'm wrong, And maybe I'm not as sick and frail and unsound, And maybe you stay Like the darkest of nights that didn't leave today. A thousand years would go by, Only to let in a thousand more. Maybe we smile There Lying beneath the countless clouds of a faraway sky. Maybe time stands still For it no longer matters Or maybe it gently passes by Like the breeze from a land we visited once. Once, Twice or thrice, maybe we shed tears too On the wounds of distant scars Slowly healing The way rainbows disappear. Maybe we smear dirt On each other's faces Like children play With their eyes closed But hearts open, And maybe we no longer deny That there still exists true love Somewhere far Beneath the same sky we look at tonight, Love that overpowers eternity, Oblivion and destiny. Love, when it is just you and me.

If only truths were spoken, I can say forevers can be counted, On the tiny fingers of love Born a few years ago, On the walls painted red, Every year on the same date. But love has grown up now. The red walls have been repainted, This time, on another date, Only to be repeated year after year, One false forever after another. And truths, these days, are spoken The same way promises are made, With gritted teeth and crossed fingers. At the end of the day, All smiles seem fake, The fake forevers remain To be counted upon the stars, One after the other, Some forgotten, Some too dim to be seen, But a forever, nevertheless, Another star to keep.