An Unfinished Story

Carefully checked out the marked lines of our plot,

Figured out the characters of it – you and me,

Envisioning the potential episodes of living,

From the dusty autumn to the chilling winter,

From spilling rain to the scorching sun,

Your hands onto mine –

Along the coastline of the bond,

We stood.

Clouds in the heaven, and the birds in the horizon,

With the lurking branches of the trees beside us,

Commonly shared the bliss of our moments.

The twigs, dried leaves, and the smitten grass

All burnt for our intense intensity.

Like the curious child,

Listening to granny’s newly spun tale just before tossing onto the bed,

The burning braches, dried leaves and the nearby bushes

Listened to our whispers of promises, tales and talks.

They shook their heads in agreement,

And the flames blazed into celebration of our siting.

The winged chariot of time was the arrow flying in speed,

The sun grew a day old,

So the breeze grew onto a wind,

And so our tall tales.

The final flame hissed.

The tree branches bade us.

I thought the story ended,

But that was untrue.

Truly,

That was an unfinished story.