That same face, whose glowing radiance akin to the shine of a hundred suns.
The very face which he can relate to his endless joys and sorrows.
The face who made his heart go wild, in all sorts of visceral pleasures.
“I love you” he said as he looked deep into her eyes.
His eyes wet with tears of melancholy.
His hands trembled as he held the red roses which she was always fond of.
As he fought to hold back his tears.
While he struggled to find lexis, for their beautiful world, or the absence of,
Her smile and her shine godlike, he was eternally infatuated for,
Her voice and her poise charming, he always longed for,
As he just stood there with rapt attention towards her radiance.
“Papa how much you love mummy?” their six year old toddler asked
Her voice, which seemed to echo inside his head for few minutes,
“A lot” he just replied to his daughter,
As he just watched her face, seemingly beautiful as ever.
But now, “C’est la vie!” he said to himself, as tears escaped his eyes
“Why are you crying daddy?” chirped his concerned daughter,
“Nothing, my darling”, replied her father,
As he carried her from the portrait of his dead wife.
– Rajat Agrawal
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