Sunday 3 May 2015

Eighteenth.

     The night falls in, and the sky steals the show. The quiet all around beautifies its eeriness. The darkest things are also the most beautiful always, in which you can empty your heart into; no one dares to explore. They remain there, untouched. You can think of any innumerable whys and ifs about such things, because somewhere you know that these are the times when questions don't matter at all. They just allow you the freedom of imagining choices you wouldn't have otherwise made.
     The lights go off one by one, you know they always will. But you still trust them with all your life. You let yourself break. And then, somehow, as time passes by, you realize there are more stars in the sky than all those lights that studded the city's skyline. It was all about the brightness, and so be it. Right ways always exist, you just need to let go when the time is right. If love is about being happy, then that is what you should get. Love, or no love. Theres' no place for things that don't work the right way. The lights stay till it is 'night' ; but it is the stars that will stay right there even during the day,and shine when it gets dark.

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