The leaves whisper.
The sky wept.
We stood in black,
mourning for the risk that our love is about to burden.
We gaze at one
and realize, it’s steadily crumbling.
We desperately desire to dig up,
only discovering there’s no value.
No significance, in our memories.
Memories were cherished,
but weren’t treasured.
Momentarily as a love song,
a sorrowful sweet lullaby.
We used to press replay,
just to restart.
To clasp affection newly.
Into the moment we first met,
just to acknowledge what we sense.
To relive what we embraced.
Now we neglect the melody.
To abolish it, before the ache.
Never reliving the bitter end.
Skipping stormy nights we shared as one.
Till the moment we overlook,
there was never hope.
We remain there,
feeling each other’s pain.
Placing roses on its Death,
to personify the love that expired.
The roses disappear,
like how our love did.
In our grasp, we clutch a rose.
Ripping the petals away, saying,
“I love you, I love you not.”
We impair each other,
for only the final petal to be,
“I love you not.”
The last petal drifts down slowly.
We stare within one’s eyes,
knowing it’ll never be the same.