The sun goes down ‘midst a golden gleam,
They’re holding hands in her scarlet dreams.
They range from past and present scenes,
Of people met and places been.
Another day and maybe more,
Of undying faith and forgiven scores.
From an angel’s touch and a poet’s eyes,
That speaks true love and never lies.
The clouds part away to show the stars,
She stares at them through his guitar.
She smells the air- he sings his song.
And he promises he won’t be gone.
While plucking chords and pulling strings,
And tying together her favorite things.
He pins her photos on his wall,
And weaves a story with ’em all.
The freckled bark of garden trees,
The morning dew on baby leaves.
The sound of air on troubled chimes,
And his voice, engraved in her mind.
She hasn’t looked- and it’s been a while,
At every little thing that makes her smile.
But amidst a play of sighs and bliss in reams,
They’re moving on with their scarlet dreams.
Sam Banerjee
'Campus Writing' 
another power packed from u..
i like how each of them tells a short story..
with a little more work, this can actually be made into a wonderful song.. 🙂
B-eautiful ^_^