Chalice, Wine, and Divine

 I. Prologue: Before the First Sip

There are glances that linger
before they're born,
breaths that pause
where no word has yet formed.

There is a silence that waits
between two pulses —
and in that hush,
begins the thirst.

No cup, no vow,
no name for this ache —
only the shadow
of something sacred
waiting to be tasted.

II. The Chalice of Your Gaze

(Refrain: like a chalice)

I swayed in silence, bound by your malice —
Yet every glance was kind, like a chalice.

No vintage aged within my veins,
Yet your eyes poured time like a chalice.

No lips had moved, no verse declared,
Still vows were sealed, designed like a chalice.

Your lashes fall — the twilight bends,
And dusk is redefined like a chalice.

The hush you leave when you depart
Holds absence well-aligned like a chalice.

Reflections tremble in your gaze,
Truth shimmers, cold, refined like a chalice.

I drink what silence dares not say —
Each pause a truth assigned like a chalice.

Now Prashant writes in muted tones,
And bleeds what love had signed like a chalice.

III. The Stillness of Your Wine

(Refrain: like still wine)

I swayed in silence, touched by your sign —
Each glance you gave, poured slow like still wine.

No chalice raised, no toast was made,
Yet love brimmed over, pure like still wine.

No words were said, no vows exchanged,
Your gaze alone felt sure like still wine.

Your lashes fell — the dusk grew deep,
A sacred hush unfurled like still wine.

That lingering pause, that turning away —
Held more than hours endure, like still wine.

Your eyes, they mirrored what I hid,
Each wound they made, they cure like still wine.

To be so near and not confess —
That ache I must endure like still wine.

Nowhere to run, no path but you —
Your glance becomes my lure like still wine.

Prashant now sips his silent grief,
And lets his lines mature like still wine.

IV. The Divinity Between Us

(Refrain: as if divine)

I wandered far through time and sign,
Then found your eyes — as if divine.

No temple called, no shrine was near,
And yet I bowed — as if divine.

You spoke no word, yet all was said,
Each look a line, as if divine.

Your gaze dissolved the bounds of self,
The space, the time — as if divine.

In stillness bloomed a sacred fire,
No ritual, no sign — as if divine.

You saw my wounds and did not turn,
You made them shine, as if divine.

I lost my name beneath your breath,
Your silence mine, as if divine.

Now Prashant walks a quiet path,
Each step, a shrine — as if divine.

V.  The Absence That Remains

(Refrain: like a shadow)
Theme: The beloved is gone, yet the love lingers. Loss becomes form.

I reached for you in waking hours —
But found you only, like a shadow.

No echo spoke, no breath returned,
Still I was held, like a shadow.

You once were fire, now you're the smoke —
Still clinging close, like a shadow.

No light remains — yet still you move,
Across my soul, like a shadow.

In every room your silence leans,
A cloak that falls, like a shadow.

Now Prashant walks alone through dusk,
Yet not alone — like a shadow.

VI. The Silence That Speaks

(Refrain: without a sound)
Theme: The final acceptance — of love’s echo in silence, memory, and soul.

I heard your name beneath the wind —
It came to me without a sound.

No voice was there, no footstep fell,
Yet time was stilled without a sound.

You touched my thoughts, then drifted on,
A vanished flame without a sound.

What we became is carved in hush,
Like moonlight spread without a sound.

This love, it needs no earthly tongue,
It rises whole without a sound.

And Prashant now writes not with ink,
But from the soul, without a sound.

VII. Epilogue: After the Last Drop

The chalice lies empty —
yet the taste remains.

Not on the tongue,
but in the turning of thoughts,
in the hush of breath
before the next word comes.

Wine has stilled —
but still it flows
through veins of memory,
through poems unnamed.

And what was divine?
Not the touch,
but what it left behind —
a trail of light
where once your gaze
had passed.