To, someone misplaced in time, somewhere

The story was left on a dotted line, and below was blank space lying…
Saw some colours, dull and bright, thought will mix them up just right,
To splash it all over,
Each drop falling out of line, reminded me of your thoughts that were never in conventional light, took me back to the times when conversations with you made my life a rhyme,
It was then I realized that just the form of you had changed,
And what remains is worth loving, remembering, savouring and deserving.

To this day, it brings a smile to me, of what you had expressed yesterday,
The clarity of your thought, the flight of your talk, the gravity of your voice; is vivid like history being enacted in a play.
So I painted the blank space, graffiti, of some words- yours and mine,
I see the pattern rise and shine,
And what is the feel of it?- its says that though you’re misplaced in time- there is me, who is always proud of your phase of grind,
You maybe nothing, you maybe something- you’re fighting it out is what I’m believing.
Wish I could find that place where you’re dwelling misplaced, only to whisper that I’m still looking up at the star, which will rise soon and this time there will be no delay.