A conversation At the stroke of Midnight.
We are on two chairs, it is night time,
on the banks of a river,
At a distance colourful lights are visible.
We are just there in silence, under starlight with smell of wet grass around and,
Music of flowing water and fragrance of the nearby flowers adding glamour to the atmosphere.
Perchance you get sleepy as usual,
Put your head on my weak shoulder, Mumbling some words to the stars as you want to narrate an untold tale to them,
Want to know the secret of their shine and elegance of the half moon.
And my head perfectly fitting your shoulder, And me putting hand around your arm,
Holding it tight,due to fear of loosing.
And me putting every effort to keep myself awaken, to be ur guard and keep the venomous, atrocious, poisonous, attery creatures away from the most beautiful soul __you and Alas me fumbling, tryin hard to get the most prestigious words of some beautiful lullaby.