They had so much to say,
But were constrained,
And had so much do,
But were abstained.

The fire was flaring,
with extreme vigor in their heart,
Eyes were defining,
nonchalantly some uncharted path,
But the pronouncement of the so called world,
Were impeding them to break free from some ever winding curl.

And in the midst of,
such apprehensions and reasoning,
The music played at the backdrop,
Pulling them so abruptly they could hardly stop,
While the tango was gently raising the music pace,
Their eyes met with elegance,
And heart melted with some passionate grace,
Before they could realize,
What had struck them,
They were frolicking,
Like smooth swiveling helm.

They didn’t blink,
Their eyes seemed glued,
Their hands tied in a knot,
Their face so close they could hardly abut.

And in that moment,
Every shield was lost,
Every curtain was raised,
And every guard was dropped,

Though no word was spoken,
No promises were sworn,
Yet their silence,
Spread a magical spell,
And that tacit last dance,
It was hard not to adorn.

Copyright © Shantanu Baruah

3 thoughts on “The Last Dance

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