The Last Ride with Her

 

This was our last ride together.

Though we never talked to each other;

Once in a blue Moon

I got the chance to sit beside her,

And found time travelling too fast

Until my stoppage would come

And the magical delusion turned over.

 

She used to sit

On her favorite window seat

At the corner of my sight.

And my eyes kept swinging

All around the bus

And kept turning back to her

In a dreaming delight

For a glimpse of her eyes;

The painstaking traffic jam

Turned sweeter.

 

She usually looked straight,

Focusing on nowhere,

And never turned left

Even by the flick of a sight;

When I sat right there

With a withering soul

Under a wavering ray of light.

 

She smiled sometimes

With her mind-storming eyes;

Either in a conversation

Or because of some funny things

In her busy cell phone;

Without ever knowing

How she set the nerves

Of an innocent soul burning...

 

Our eyes met sometimes

For a fraction of a moment

Until she took her look away

Faster than the lightning;

But enough for my searing soul

To float over a charming spell

And set the tune to raining.

 

I used to talk to her

For hours together,

But there was no word

That I ever had to utter.

She used to reply

With words, wit and smiles

As my mind find better

In the weaving of a dream

By a lonely day dreamer...

 

And that was my last ride with her,

With all my fooled imaginations

And the dreams of a beautiful lie.

But the feelings, be it one-sided,

I would always love to taste

The blissful pain, once before I die. 

© Atique R.