Long time ago, there was this maiden, who always used to keep the feeling she felt, the emotions she lived, hidden, in her heart, this world of hers was never seen with an 'Entry' signboard...
Then, came a lad, all too impressive, or so to say that she was swayed, (still wondering), by the enchantment too tempting to let go off...
Just like a flower blossoms, so did they,
The gates were naturally left open,
and everything was shared, almost everything,
that she earlier feared,
she poured out her heart, every hidden territory was explored,
and so was the lad ever eager,
into the secrets untold...
The smell of her tresses drew this one wild,
The more she let herself loose,
the more they spent the time.
Lost completely,
or in her senses for the first time,
The touch is the first kind of sense,
the newborn from this mother of dine'
She didnt leave,
or forget,
to share a single moment
the various experiences in the day
she felt...
But the times never last,
a touch is long lost craved past.
Fixated is the maiden,
wonders what wrong she do,
Why did she open up this Pandora's box,
Just to see hell break loose?
Long time ago they used to question her,
when she read'em page by page, line by line,
Today at the threshold,
Tears' droplets trickle down,
they wet the same old,
As she rises to question again,
Was all this destined?
Was while she let it all,
there were things she hid under...
Or was she right in being called
not too open with
the emotions that even today
thunder.
