It was this sudden embrace that had them both intertwined by fate’s thread and coincidences’ knot
On an unfinished painted midnight sky

All this desperate longing brought nothing but a false sense of hope
How can she go on, if fear clings to her like chains she is but Marley’s ghost
Is it her long forgotten past that lurks behind every corner?
Waiting for her to come knocking, another relapse I suppose

How is she to fall for another, if she has drained all the ink from her ballpoint pen?
How can she capture and create from small talks and hellos?

They both sat watching shades of blue being mixed with moonlight
You can hear the rhythmic tapping of his fingers, as a piece is imaginely being played
You can dream that each letter would be written on crisp worn paper, that is now being held in binding on what is to be her Pandora’s box

Oh what God has brought on for this pair, as fate and coincidence have long been reunited
What do they have in mind?

For surely, she will remember the rich fertile soil, readyed to bring life
She will think of him when she ponders the specks of radiance that are flaked in the sky
For he grew, as if it were a Garden of Eden, an inch of hope that coursed through her veins like budding vines
She no longer drowns in fear, at last, she breathes for air

And by now, ink became no longer scarce,
As time was no longer an enemy

He continues playing, she continues writing
They now both admire the finished painted sky
They now enjoy the sweet innocent presence of one another

For Fate and Coincidence are rejoiced by their tying
And yet, only the question remains:

How can carven wood play harmonic vivid sounds that echo for miles
And how can manufactured pens that drain both thoughts and words
Be intertwined?

It is the art that they both create for how can either one of them share his or her’s love for the other?