Heavens torrent upon
The unswept rock,
Tarnished with great age.
And I see you dwell
In every drop of that rejuvenating
Boon. Your friendship
Makes me that stone,
In happiness I swell.
I behold, in the meadow,
A tulip that blooms in
All its might, from dusk
To an everlasting dawn.
But my eyes embrace your
Face shine more bright
Than that pretty flower.
Records of our bond, beckon.
I stand atop the peak,
To relish the tranquil
Morning, but your affection
Touches me, more beautifully,
Than the dew, that falls
In my calm eye, and
I close them to savor them
Forever, truly.
Skys exhibit their art:
The seven soulmates after
The drizzle parts;
But none compares our friendship,
As the blossoms beneath watch
The Lucid Vagrancy of Pink Vermillion,
That exalts our love.
To a many,
Benevolence resounds;
A reverberation, that I did
Not heed to, nor did Saturn’s niece;
But I knew,
I knew you were the muse in
Beethoven’s symphony,
That made it a masterpiece.
When the vagabond,
Was to succumb to
His torpor, in a very
Gruesome despondency,
You were the one to
Befriend the loner,
To hold his hand, and
Walk love to utmost supremacy.
The raw marble, laid
Before the sculptor. In
Dilemma of carvings, he was.
But, my friend, I saw your
Picture overcome him,
An unintended work that made us
A living record of
Immortal friendship, no for.
From a tiny little seed,
A tree grew up, the
Tree of all bonds.
But, the world beholds it –
Your love, my affection, and
Memories of our old mates
That dwells in the pillars of
Behemoth of vivid emotions, I built.
- Pulkit :: Jain
