Peeping into the crevices of rigidity; boldness embarked on a journey into thirty,
Amidst the yards of time, the maroon walls saw a certain creeper vie for change,
The creeper so slender at its tender age, tethered, weathering life events.
Housed, bottled, in the pangs of influence:
Influence sweeping the balance off the creeper’s roots;
Wiping its rudimentary trait of being able to spread.
Lush green it is, in the prime stage of growing up;
Panged by the influence, is unaware of its peers.
Mushy at an early age; and is under a cloud of disappearance...
The cloud so thick and dark, not rain-bearing; notwithstanding the seasons of change in the atmosphere:
The cloud spoke in circles, forming contours of influence all throughout.
Languid the creeper was, a weakling in the pink of life;
Sans an inkling of pressure,
Kept wading its way within the fissures.
Peep out, it did not.
Kept at it, within the contours.
Far from the abysmal reaches of the cloud
Drops of rain, the creeper craved to feel
Healing it, off all ailments.
Gung-ho! The bell rang
The creeper felt the first bout of torrential rain.
Bequeathed it thus was with serendipity
Bold and beautiful, than ever.
Flaunting its sexy curves
Raking many a nerve.
Breaking the shackles of time and influence,
Embracing each night with might.
Beating the trespassers black and blue
The creeper set out on a mission
With the guidance of an emissary:
Krish and Wish together thus broke out.