That One Evening

I think, I should depict it as poetry which goes like 'That one evening,
of the most random day of the year,
I felt the connotations of life
in every single breath,
when inhaled,
I took in sanguine waves of breeze
blend with lumps of serene air,
clouds of memories
and chunks of buoyant leaves,
rhythmically moving over the face of stillness and desires to come true,
with time
and when exhaled,
I threw all the melancholy air suffused within as the past
with the rays of desolate ends as the sun
sets taking all the insecurities off the air.
I feel my existence
in this occupied sphere,
counting to be timeless over the glare,
I laid on the ground,
staring into the half moon
to discern that the other half has paled far away from me,
leaving the footprints as scars in this pink painted sky,
with strokes of thin branches of
dried out leaves alike the faded thoughts in the milieu.
The teardrops moisturized the grass
which were patting the tired back
to hush my heart,
the benign curve on face
when the heartbeats were heard by ears
and echoed all over to spread gentle grin.
I feel the creation,
it grasped me into the evergreen arms
to be the cure for scratched wounds,
and miles away from the running-world,
I left as the calmest being.' oh! The scenery made pure poetry.