Just a like an endless passionate embrace, uncalled for, hungered for love and touch, I try to engulf the voice...separated by many a mile...many seas and countries....I can still feel the smell of her hair, the gentle fragrance of her perfume....in my own mind I tend to cross the atlantic..the frozen lochs and moores...crossing caringorms and goatfell, breaching the endless landscape of nothingness filled with whispering pines....I come towards you...
The mellifluous voice flows across the unnamed terrain of my heart....just like the I Giorgio...its surreal, divine....
Every goodbye comes with a strange sense of promise to meet again....the twinkle in eyes remains....there lies a hope...
Meeting again?
At some point of time in life..somewhere...in some other form...the affection and love gets transformed as compassion and divinity...
But where ever you go...in some form you will find me..as a guide, philosopher, tired drunkard writing love stories on the wall of his life...as a lost poet or insomniac...whatever you call me..its just me...transformed by you...for better.
The mellifluous voice flows across the unnamed terrain of my heart....just like the I Giorgio...its surreal, divine....
Every goodbye comes with a strange sense of promise to meet again....the twinkle in eyes remains....there lies a hope...
Meeting again?
At some point of time in life..somewhere...in some other form...the affection and love gets transformed as compassion and divinity...
But where ever you go...in some form you will find me..as a guide, philosopher, tired drunkard writing love stories on the wall of his life...as a lost poet or insomniac...whatever you call me..its just me...transformed by you...for better.
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