The First Attempt

I stood secluded by a recess in my room,
My hands resting on the windowsill,
Fluttering at her image subconsciously perceived,
I looked beyond and saw a story to weave.

A martini alone on a wintry night,
With a gentle breeze sizzling by my side.
I wished to pen down my feelings for her,
But thought some moments are best left untouched.
To let my memories grapple in the sea of adjourns,
I watched a bird flutter, possibly in search of a sojourn.

In the deluge, she seemed inconspicuous,
The featherings distorted and the wings deformed,
Ravelled in the enormity of the skies,
Tangled, entwined, she had lost her flight.

I was the fragile bird except with the wings,
In all hope, reality had a similar concern to bring.
She was my stay with no restrain,
But my courage inflicted me with throbbing pain.
With no directions but a desire left,
I’ll let her know with my efforts put best.

A day came and the instance arrived,
Delved in an exigency, I left the moment betide.
A fear emerged — she’d let go of me,
But thrilled otherwise, I went down on a knee.

Some things happened, I’d rather not explain,
The chorus of the song, she was my refrain.
Today’s my story and she’s in my sight,
With a gentle breeze sizzling by my side.
The martini was now shared between two,
I rest my pen, hereby greeting her in distinct hue.

Connect with me at akshat3sep@gmail.com
Pic credits: unsplash.com