Thinkings of the new.

Love is inherently flawed.

I sit here, waiting, and my heart aches.

An unknown fear has benignly crept into my thoughts,

The fear of her never knowing.

The voices inside me fight, one trying to subdue the other.

Reaching one binary decision.

Should or Shouldn’t I?

I can never tell her.

‘Love has no boundaries,’ people tell me.

Love is, hence, inherently flawed.

Love may be ethereal, yet it is not persistent.

‘What am I to her?,’ I ask myself.

I hear me laughing at myself.

While I sit here reading the tales of Husrev and Shirin, I think of her.

Oh, how surreal such tales are!

Tales of a love that transcends our realm of imagination.

She and I, sitting by the river.

I look into her eyes and I am enchanted by their beauty.

Alas! We are now worlds apart.

There is no river, but there is a ray of hope.

I can see her. She can see me.