That night,
Looking at reflection of  
beautiful moon,
In flowing river
Where fireflies was dancing 
On songs of night insects.

My head on her shoulder,
Holding hands,
With silence ,
Telling stories of past
Without any lies,
With some tears in eyes,
Understanding each others
tragedies of life,
pleasant wind blowing 
like it was also hearing us,
 I fell asleep on her shoulder
It was as soft as my pillow.

.

.

Soon I realise its my own pillow 
When my alarm clock rings,
all my fantasy burst like a balloon.

© Akash dey