• unnati_here 16w

    He was a painter, she's his muse,
    He painted her each day, every day
    He knew her smile in infinite hues...
    Painted his canvas with words he couldn't say...
    She ruled his hand and his heart,
    Her eyes adorned all his walls...
    One dawn, she lay still and motionless,
    Leaving him with nothing but memories...
    He still paints her each day, every day,
    Her memoirs still adorn his walls
    Yet he is now a mourner, she's his grief...
    ©unnatibhattshah