How, I miss him?

It is a silent corner,
Where I sit, like a loser.
Sinking into the sweet past,
Cursing, why didn't the time last.

Every night, we'd made love.
Why isn't it the same, now?
Though, on the same bed, we sleep,
He doesn't hear me weep.

The First Omen

Simple things always gets my interest, more than the sophistications and riches that generally lures people of my age. I choose to spend my weekends reading a book rather than crowd the shopping malls. However, my love for plainness never influenced my fancy for the elegance and the magnificence of the nature. Nature always calls upon me. I relish long, lonely evening walks, because that is when I get to see things as they are, rather than take everything that cinemas shows us nowadays. I love when my hair flutters along with the cool breeze and birds sing somewhere faraway.

Though, every evening walk had been no different from the other, except for the people who walk the streets, there was something magical about that evening. I could feel the magic and also smell it. Thankfully, I live in suburbs; otherwise, I would have been smelling smoke that vehicles fart.

Magic always ends!

Under the starry sky, I sit alone. I sit alone, like a lost knight.
Humming a lazy tune and wishing for the night to die soon.
I sit alone, yet in the company of the cold night.
Faraway, a dog howled and went behind the veils, the moon.

I sit here, quiet. Quiet, yet noisily beats my heart.
Breaking the silence, the breeze began to croon.
I sit here, under the starry sky, waiting for the first light.
The breeze sung and with it, I hummed. I hummed the same tune.
My eyes fluttered again and again. With sleep, was it's fight.
Forgetting, magic always ends, I sit here. I sit here, like a goon.