My Pilot

I'm glad that you are the pilot
of my sensitive emotional state.
Through your whims, your fancies,
you manoeuvre my state of being...

...between the zeniths of joy
and the nadirs of sorrow,
rarely touching on equanimity,
where I'd rather like to remain.

From the lowly dejected blues
where you, yourself, subjected me,
you bring back the pleasant smile
on my contorted, forlorn face.

Make it, break it, or crash it;
its all your will, your vagary.
I just hope to Him earnestly,
whatever be the sway, the result,
that you come out of it safely.

If I am given another chance,
another go at things from the start,
there is no doubt about it, that
I would choose to go the same way.

I would show my gratitude to fate
for introducing into my parched life,
the most wonderful person I met; the
mistress of my emotions, pilot of my dreams.