its not love
yet one can see
passion burning in his eyes when he looks at her
softness in his hold when he comforts her
gentleness in his tone when he talks to her
one can see..
him sigh when she’s not there to hold his hand
his smile when he’s taking a drive down the memory lane
his agitation when he’s helpless in anywhich way due to her being distant
no definately its not love…
cause its more than what a word can describe..!




Its love she’s looking for,

yet its love she’s afraid of

its the darkness she’s most comfortable with,

yet its the darkness she’s scared of

longing to be held in arms is what she dreams,

yet letting herself go in those arms is what she restraints from

holding her heart close to her;

protected with shallow walls around,

its freedom she most desires

yet she’s her own prisoner

she stands in a crowd with fierce courage to be noticed,

yet its shyness she’s accustomed of

with her pain she stands alone;making it her strength,

yet its the very pain she loathes of.

its love she’s looking for,

yet its love she’s the most afraid of…