I don't want to give her a face
The one who writes in hazy days
Let her be the imaginary form
Residing in clouds of early morn
She may look like a regular being
But inside her lies the mysterious teen
The one who is a lot more
Than the waves hitting water shore
If you think, you know her well
Its all illusion, I can tell.
She is an enigma
Larger than artist's imagination
Bigger than God's creation
Twister than writer's plot
The one with never-ending train of thought
Like an open book she stands
Lets you read the page she wants
You don't get to choose
Reading the whole is against rules
She remains a mystery
Even to herself
Some pages are blank
To be filled by an elf
Will ever come a day
When the my
stery will unlock
Will ever stars shine
In early morn?
The one who writes in hazy days
Let her be the imaginary form
Residing in clouds of early morn
She may look like a regular being
But inside her lies the mysterious teen
The one who is a lot more
Than the waves hitting water shore
If you think, you know her well
Its all illusion, I can tell.
She is an enigma
Larger than artist's imagination
Bigger than God's creation
Twister than writer's plot
The one with never-ending train of thought
Like an open book she stands
Lets you read the page she wants
You don't get to choose
Reading the whole is against rules
She remains a mystery
Even to herself
Some pages are blank
To be filled by an elf
Will ever come a day
When the my
stery will unlock
Will ever stars shine
In early morn?