Every last kiss holds the agony of separation,
Each bite that sits on skin,
It beckons the left behind moments.
More than the passion, they behold the strong urge to grapple.
Rare alignments of fortune and desire are to be seen,
Most of the time, one dies out of the fear of dissociation.
Every drop of tears knows their worth in the heart of beloved,
Fallen leaves of autumn measure the pain of falling,
The confused tribe is clueless about what is deeper,
The perfect synchrony of falling apart,
Or the flawless line of symmetry of the first meet?
Every good-byes urge to never make it true,
The longing to coalescence weighs more than the intention of seclusion
In the atoms of 'good-byes'.
The unblemished beauties of nature know how many millions of years have passed
in exercising the flawless dramatization of portraying standardized 'perfection'
As he imbibed himself into the saps of ghazals, shayaris or qawali,
He knew the last is not meant to be terminated
It stays;
The smithereens get hazier as time proceeds further.
Parallels are never meant to meet
Even with the strongest desire of meeting at one point.
Every last kiss is overwhelmingly and disturbingly
a similar occurrence between two souls
Parallely maintaining their genuineness of 'paralleled' nature,
Physically subliming into the chasm of partition,
Profoundly desiring to become an eternal individual.