Unconditional

These four walls woke up feeling incomplete,
Wee hours of morning saw you leave,
While I slept soundly,
Clutching on a 100 rupee note,
Tucked in by your beautiful hands,
That are as wrinkled as the surface of the untouched tea,
You keep in my desk every winter eve,
This house,
It has become silent,
With a face of dissapointment when I unlock the door,
It asks me where you've gone,
Prancing feet and loud phone calls,
Clattering of utensils in the kitchen,
Running bath and whispering chants,
And occasional painful groans,
It tells me you are its muse,
And that it misses you dearly!
Sweet love of mine,
I tell the house I share its pain,
My cold fingers once being kissed by you,
Now pick up your white strands of hair,
Never wanting to run out of them,
And I'd wait for next winter to come,
To see your tired pretty face again,
Sometimes complaining but mostly loving,
Loving with a love so unconditional,
It almost feels undeserving,
I wish I could lay the whole world in front of you,
Or turn back the time for you,
Or maybe just talk more on the phone when you're away!!,
But all I can do is wait for you