My Dream Still Sits on the Last Bench

My dream still sits on the last bench,

From where two pairs of eyes,

Placed far away from each other,

Stared for hours,

Longing to be together.

What was love …

Those innocent eyes were far from aware of.

Yet love was what dribbled from there.

Meekly goes hazy all;

Forcing one pair of eyes,

To quest for the other,

In the digs of darkness.

Darkness grows deeper and deeper,

Diluting the other pair;

With the clock striking the early rays;

Into the light of actuality.

For the second time,

Light fades away,

To the dim,

Leaving …

My dream, yet again, on the last bench …

For one more glimpse.