After the sunset, he was thrown into a dark dungeon….
Merely did he know that it was just a small pain…
Like the small rain before the rainbow…
Then one day there was music all around...
Notes flew through the sky… as low and high rhythmic pitches…
He raised his hand and she held it tight…
She never let the hold to loosen…
Months passed and years came…
Years passed and decades came…
Everything around them has now grown old…
She still made sure that his wrinkled hands were safe in
hers…
Time came for her to go back….
So one day she flew away…
To that far off place…
Some call it heaven... Some doesn’t name it…
She had come in with no huge declarations or fake promises
to break
She lit up his lost times and taught him trust isn’t rare…
He now learnt that loyalty exists…
And sometimes a small ray is mightier than a huge beam
….All have to leave
some day… All live holding hands…
But, there are only
very few who make sure
….the grip was tight
until the end…
