aniket22
Favoured Frenzy
The world forgets to spin a while,
The air holds still, entranced by style—
A hush, a breath, a stolen sigh,
Each time she simply passes by.
No trumpet sounds, no thunder wakes,
Yet every heart in silence breaks.
The light bends softer on her way,
As if the sun forgot the day.
She carries grace without a word,
More felt than seen, more known than heard.
The sidewalk dreams beneath her tread,
And roses bloom where none were spread.
And though she never turns to see
The wake of quiet reverie,
She leaves behind, like whispered art,
A poem written on the heart.
The air holds still, entranced by style—
A hush, a breath, a stolen sigh,
Each time she simply passes by.
No trumpet sounds, no thunder wakes,
Yet every heart in silence breaks.
The light bends softer on her way,
As if the sun forgot the day.
She carries grace without a word,
More felt than seen, more known than heard.
The sidewalk dreams beneath her tread,
And roses bloom where none were spread.
And though she never turns to see
The wake of quiet reverie,
She leaves behind, like whispered art,
A poem written on the heart.
