Thursday, April 14, 2016


By Sunaina Patnaik at Thursday, April 14, 2016

Engulfing solitude and the evening sky,
The slight red and the shy orange,
Of the sun slowly melting into the endless horizon.
As I stare at the sunset in awe, you take my arm into yours,
Singing along with the songs we choose to play.
But it's not the music that makes the drives or evenings better.
It's really you who makes even bad music sound like a symphony.



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