To My Author
The book is opened and the story starts
With your words, but with my voice,
With the plot you wove, but with the life I live
A story that is both of ours.
You gave me the eyes you always liked
The lightest of blue, the darkest of black.
You fashioned me with the ever-humour you had,
Tempered me with the grace you always lacked.
Half of me you painted with the soft shade
That you tried so hard to not let it fade.
Half of me you shadowed with your deepest hue
Recklessly, like the sinister thoughts within you.
I climbed the snow-capped mountain
Like you always wanted to do.
I filled the chasms, bore your scars
Saw the meteorite like you thought you would.
And you altered that lonely campfire of your life
Into mine with friends you never came across.
You made your secrets mine; for me to steal
And boldly say them like you never could.
And so drops of ink fall, an obsidian treachery.
Stardust upon you, sunlight dapples over me,
As you breathe in the light and write me.
Our chapters are short, cleverly strewn,
People read me never knowing it's also you.
But now your skin decays, I still stay the same
We laugh but tears cascade down our face.
You are gone, I dutifully stay;
But our story never ends.
The writer is a class 11 student of Birshreshtha Noor Mohammad Public College
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