He the same, she the constant...

'Tell me,dear,
Has the time made us bankrupt?'
He asked, one wet evening,
Looking straight into her glassy eyes...

She said nothing,only kept her head down,
But he was kind of desperate...
So he repeated,
'Tell me, dear, please...'
And he went near her
And held her hands into his rough,stubborn hands...

'Don't know...'
She murmured...kind of absentmindedly...

'Please, don't be so inconsiderate...'
He almost pleaded,
Then suddenly he was gripped by fervour, unprecedented,
'Time has given us everything,
It has changed us for the better, forever...
It has made us all the more wealthy...we are so rich!'
He almost exclaimed, trembling like a string of a violin,
Upon which someone's fingers played a tune alien...

'Is it you?'
She asked, doubts and fears all over her...
'Is it you who asked me to walk the path through the desert?
Is it the same you?'

He just sat beside her,
With her soft hands into his rough, stubborn hands...
He said nothing...
He just sat there,
As silent, as the silent morn bereft of any blemish...