She looks up at the sky,
sometimes down at the earth,
sometimes she looks right,
sometimes left, sometimes behind,
sometimes straight at me,
with a smile that casts a spell.
Sometimes she stands afar,
and sometimes she comes close,
but never close enough,
as if she fears my presence.
Her face, which I eagerly wait to see,
she never wants to show to me.
The eyes that I so deeply admire
ignite an unknown fire,
yet they refuse to look at me.
The beauty of her charm
keeps my heart warm.
Yet she keeps her distance,
and that gives me no peace.
The comfort of her warmth,
I wish I could steal her away from this earth.
But she blames the time of my birth,
and I wonder if this is
the universe's wrath.
By
Sanji-Paul Arvind
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