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One Shot!
One shot (os ) are tiny stories of about 30-40minutes , usually, and set up in a single set or location.
I had a faith, I still have, that we'll meet one more time and more and more thereafter, for forever!
My restless impatience mind came to believe that our meeting was an one shot tragic story which had an abrupt ending enduring its never fading fragrance across. The fireflies sparks every night and fades with the light. The petrichor broods a song, laments the miseries and agonies of an unsure journey yet to happen, or will it ever happen? I sleep to ardent hope, the someday might be tomorrow morning.
It is said that it is the incomplete stories which remain beautiful forever! Perhaps, I believe. Rather, I coax my silly heart it with.
I don't wanna touch you, you'll fade.
I wanna know you, you'll get lost.
The drizzles, it brings hopes and subdues to the bitter truth.
The days went usual with the sun shining, wind blowing. The night, scarry and starry, it reads a letter of nostalgia, a tiny memory, that has an enormous potential to strain my heart, tore it, break it, maybe fix it.
I believe or rather hope, someday, like the new buds of february, our story will re-birth, more fresh, more green,more delighting. We'll oneday steep upto the hills, cold and frizy, where the sunlight will soothes our woes and we'll make a sequel to our 1800mins long affections into a 5minutes One Shot.
© Prerana
I had a faith, I still have, that we'll meet one more time and more and more thereafter, for forever!
My restless impatience mind came to believe that our meeting was an one shot tragic story which had an abrupt ending enduring its never fading fragrance across. The fireflies sparks every night and fades with the light. The petrichor broods a song, laments the miseries and agonies of an unsure journey yet to happen, or will it ever happen? I sleep to ardent hope, the someday might be tomorrow morning.
It is said that it is the incomplete stories which remain beautiful forever! Perhaps, I believe. Rather, I coax my silly heart it with.
I don't wanna touch you, you'll fade.
I wanna know you, you'll get lost.
The drizzles, it brings hopes and subdues to the bitter truth.
The days went usual with the sun shining, wind blowing. The night, scarry and starry, it reads a letter of nostalgia, a tiny memory, that has an enormous potential to strain my heart, tore it, break it, maybe fix it.
I believe or rather hope, someday, like the new buds of february, our story will re-birth, more fresh, more green,more delighting. We'll oneday steep upto the hills, cold and frizy, where the sunlight will soothes our woes and we'll make a sequel to our 1800mins long affections into a 5minutes One Shot.
© Prerana
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