I, and, used to be, You.

This is a Sonnet
Narrating a Love song.
Of you.
Of me.
Of us, not you and me.

I yearned for a life
driven by purpose.
With the purpose,
the aim,
the objective,
the apple of my eyes
whom I could
devote
planting seeds.

You've created the mirage,
one I could work
without such green thumb.
You drifted apart
towards the epicenter,
and thus,
together was born.

We,
were born out of sorrows.
Amidst the raging fire- heat,
from the eye of the storm- fast,
time becomes
an eternal foe.
The cliche of "us"
against the tides
meant much more
than why we live.

This is love,
amidst the poetic design
contradicting
the beautiful things.
Love became
the 'red' of war
and when we wage- we placed our lives on the line.

Our love
would never be tragic.
We would, in eternity,
be a 'comma.'
The story that
kept on
drowning its narration.
This sonnet.
Of you.
Of me.
Of us, not I and you.
I,would never part
from the thunderstorm
Even if you had.

Even if you already had.// 29-January-2014