Silent as the night,cold as the moon,a man stood,his hair being played by wind,tied with simple ribbon of white ...
He never asked,where it came from,that white ribbon that hold his black raven hair in place,that his mother had tied his hair with,
And his mother too never let him known,where did she get it,how could she feel that it belonged to the little child in her arms..
He asked,the same question,he once had asked,Him or Her,who did he love,who did she love..
And his teacher,from whom he had heard that story,from his childhood,as he learnt sword art,stood quite..
The man standing infront of that young man,his teacher,heard a silent voice,telling,it was neither,Him nor Her..
It was just a lover,loving his lover..
Now a lover loving her lover..
And forever will be,a lover,loving her lover..
How he exists will be his own choice,all she asks is for a name,to call for..
A day to wait for,a promise to keep,a lover to love,a child to adore,a parent to worship,just him as everything and more..
Not any him and her..Just him and him alone..
