This one from Manhattan!

Life has just been moments, which,
Have not yet grown into years,
Days lightened up by smiles,
Have not yet seen nights of tears,
Things you can't avoid,
Have not yet crossed conscience,
The edge, still beneath the feet,
Is yet to manage the six foot compliance,
The smiles have not yet faded,
The skin has not yet wrinkled,
Life's blooming, against all odds,
The buds somehow still stand sprinkled.
Enough having been said of journeys,
There have not been any falls yet,
It's still a story of two,
The world hasn't entered the scene yet.
I have known this road, yeah, the road of love,
Perhaps the most difficult to tread,
Don't you worry about me,
I know how decisions are made,
Give me the shade of your curls,
And the Sun shall become a friend again,
Give me the light of your love,
And I'll have stories of nights to sing,
Place your hands in mine,
You'll see the world in them then,
But it's gonna be a long trip,
Peaceful? I won't claim.
Don't you worry about me,
Speak for yourself,
Home is still in vicinity,
But the destination no where close,
I have made my choice,
Now it's your turn,
Wanna come, then let's go,
If not, then just return.

The chosen one.

A book, veiled behind layers of Words,
Lies open, right infront of me,
For a while now, trying hard to comprehend,
I stand here, Now aware of what was to be,

All that's written, All that was meant,
I see names bigger than mine,
Fighting hard to assert their mastery,
over it, that which changes lines with time,

A book, as amazing as the anonymous author,
Skillful at deceiving the reader,
For the fear of getting deciphered,
And getting dragged into the routine radar,

I see faces brighter than me,
Scratching their heads, rubbing their palms,
Coaxing the book to give in,
To expose it's original self, by virtue of charm,

The same trick as used by the book,
Not sure, if it might get tempted to reveal it all bare,
I stand here, with a black smile ,
On these still pink lips, now aware,

Of all that the book is about,
Though still unsure, if it would act agile,
And give in to the charms I've talked about,
But I stand here, with the same black smile,

As if telling the book, that now,
My dear friend, You stand deciphered,
word by word, bit by bit,
And don't you worry, you don't belong to the cupboard,

Whatever else you've got, go ahead and show,
But whatever you feel, & however hard they try,
Oh dear, I think you, by now know,
Who was the one who saw it all through,
Who was the one chosen to read you!