Desolated reality

Sometimes I ponder about her, who once flowered my words so to flow
With all measures of tranquility, it was an undefined smile‟s glow;
I never knew till now... Who she is..? Where she was from..?
I never knew still… Or What her heart and soul really stands for…?
Either good or evil, Of Whatever these theists label people off…?
I had never again spoke to her, ever after that one fine day of November
For first and last stretch of hours I ever talk to her…
It was such a seasoned evening… So preciously ever it reasons my mind
Forever to remember that symbol of humanity;
The every octave of her voice still melts my soul,
Even though I don‟t what sort of phenomenon it is…
She was greened in such eloquent simplicity…And heart dressed in such humane bliss
Her tongue silvered in its innocence… So bizarre celestial event was she then??
Ever I never knew how to describe her …? Either by metaphor or by simile
So exotic was her spectacle reflected her benevolence …
So fragrant were her calm lips… that sweetened the whole dawn in its mildness.
I never know in what kind of friendship, I caught myself so nebulous…
So more, She made my words so to stay… so too fabulous
She never teased me in superstitions, she never melted me in any human silly sentiments
She was so rich in reality, with what mother nature blessed her in some commitments
After that I didn‟t had chance to speak to her, ever after so I was left in such despair
She had infected me in her philosophical nature…
I‟m ever longing for to ever again …
Such a virtuous human never I have met
But still ever, after that season nothing ever happen again in reality…
I am still softened by such melancholic farewell, she bid me once for all
So I do lost in that desolated reality, When shall I meet her ever again?