In a world where passion seldom aligns

And rarity is a secret passage to folly,

My chaotic thoughts bloomed,

And my happy place hinted—not far away.

Day by day, the thoughts grew, mildly misplaced,

Finding form in this Tear rubber world.

Devoid of my reality, still, readers gathered—

My safe space, their only desire.

Like a canvas, my words flew back and forth,

To and fro,

Moulding the very essence of my voice.

Hearts uncountable, like the stars, became entwined,

And with every story told,

Dissatisfaction moved back, like the rich man

In Lazarus's bosom.

To call it an obligation

Would be a craving unfulfilled.

Passion wouldn’t tell the full story,

But for floating on my heart’s sweet passion,

I would move the heavens! And cry aloud, "I'm yours."