Scarlet curtains,
my window dons,
a space between the pair,
to let morning crawl, in;

In to my bed,
on to my eyes,
in through my window,
in a scarlet disguise;

Caressing my cheek,
as the dawn moves on,
warm and soft,
like feathers my wings adorn;

“Morning my love.”
She whisper’s in my ear,
to embrace her I rise,
in the dead of the night.

Its dark still,
as cold as time;
so I sort myself out,
and wait for my sunshine.

She’s still gonna be here;
Soft and warm, on wings of a quail
to lift this darkness,
this vantablack veil.

And what of her whisper?
dare I ask;
but a message sent ahead,
to make me smile, just a little sooner-

So it may last,
just a while longer.

Morning love.

By: Viraj Belgaonkar