The audience has fallen silent,

In the Colosseum, after cheering.

At the centre of the arena lies our past – our story,

Which, for hours, had kept all of them engaged.

I pray thee for the strength to walk till the land's end,

And the courage to leap without fearing what’s ahead and the height.

To glide through the small clouds of my thoughts,

Crash into the sea and dive deep into the depths of my feelings.

Those flawless and symmetric sides of mine,

With their exact angle and length all set to an equilibrium.

Present a beautiful picture of success, peace, and harmony,

To the outside world, hiding the truths within.

The placid water of a shrub-lined pond,

Reflecting the picture of a small cottage.

Which a friend would have let me live,

Away from people at the forest’s edge.

It took courage to open that black box,

Which had not been opened for a decade.

It was time to face the objects in it,

As I believed that they were long dead.

There is some magic in the air,

Nights are clement and mornings, fair.

Hoodies and gilets are stowed,

Tees and cashmere are again remembered.

You insisted that that was not a sin,

Wore that extra toe ring as proof of your acceptance.

Our secret betrothal was enough to clear our guilt,

And accept it as our parallel life and not as a happenstance.

How feelings got across then,

Silently, without a word being told?

Now many words died untold,

When the relationship became old.

One sky looks brighter than the others,

Soon will be brightening up the lawn outside.

My room is still dark and dishevelled,

Like the heart and mind inside.