If I could,
then I would be for sure-
the colour in your life,
unadulterated and pure.
The colour that speaks when the spirits bloom,
the colour of every changing mood.
Of the imprint on my heart when you held my hand
the colour that has leaked from old photographs…
And I’m afraid that,
I feel the need,
to make this colour,
my reason to breath.
The colour that changes in the wind
dissolves and runs away with the rain.
Colours so rich that they stain time,
melting the joy and the pain
So let me colour you with my emotions,
and in return, colour my soul
with your impressions.
If my life is a canvass,
then be my god, be my artist.
Do not let me exit this world as I had entered it,