Saying goodbye
To someone you love
Is like reading the final page
Of an amazing book.

As the last chapter ends
You begin to notice
Just how beautiful
And perfect
The plot always was.  

You appreciate the joy
And even the pain
As you read and thumb
Through every page.

Finally understanding
The moral of the story,
You realize you've reached
The end of this journey.

Although the last sentence  
Is the most difficult to read
Another great book awaits
Once you turn the final page.

Eventually you may stumble
Upon yet another great find.
Or maybe you'll return
To the book you left behind.

You may just discover
Once all is said and done
That this particular book  
Was your favorite story
All along.

A rose has no intent to harm you, but she does nonetheless.
With no desire to hurt, she can neither feel regret
You asked for more and it gave no less
But you left her your heart when you met

I had no reason and no way to explain
When I walked away and took all the blame
I could not describe the intimate pain
And you knew all along our love wasn’t the same

With petals concealing the thorn underneath
The shy doesn’t dare to demand be left be
For had she unveiled the pain behind the sheathe
No one ever would grasp for the branch that broke free

So quilt in her likeness until you don’t care anymore
And patch her with pictures when she starts to look worn
Then you’ll lose sight of her beauty, forget what you cared for,
And you’ll wander away, remembering her only for her thorn.

You are a book with many pages
You are a fabric with an endless design
You are a quote that has a moral lesson
You are a flower that has yet to bloom

I wish to see what's written inside you
I wish to examine the quality of who you are
I wish to understand what you mean
I wish to nurture you into what you have yet to become

I want to finish reading every word
I want to create you into a masterpiece
I want to use you in my sentences
I want to care for you, before you bloom

I will share your whole story with the world
I will show them you are the most gorgeous gown
I will show them the importance of using you in sentences
I will show them your beauty before you wilt.

Any song can sound sweet,
if you tune your tone appropriately,
and add a lyric,
with a melody
and I have seen where there is a life,
there is a song
but some songs are not only a love song
that notion was a loop, intense, black and blue passionate song
was not romantic

She was a sad song
and I thought I would know how to make it better
like if I could be the only to love her again,
I believed that everything would fall into a melodious love song
but  I lost a few lines of lyrics
and there was bit melody missing that I couldn't find
and I saw too many scratches on the disc
I couldn't let myself be made no longer
trying to fix her entirety.
.
@Musfiq us shaleheen

~

Beneath a glowing chrysanthemum moon
I ponder the future intense
Counting each star that my eyes they do see
A’ shine in this nighttime suspense

Drawing on visions alive in my heart
Counting my blessings so true
Outlining shadows that dance on the ground
Forming a thought from a clue

Here on the grass of a neatly trimmed field
The world moves a bit as I stare
Memories found that we not yet have met
Days soon to come we will share

These are the dreams of your amorous poet
Out as the night wind does flow
Promising truth high above all this wisdom
Off in the distance to show

Praying that you shall reflect off this moonbeam
Touched by the light of my love
Sent from the heart of a desperate endeavor
Rains from the night sky above

Loneliness brings with it determination
Fight till I no longer breathe
Clapping my hands hoping magic will happen
Some things I tend to believe

Soon in the year of decisions decided
Until the end of all time
I shan’t let go when I find you are waiting
*Locked in my arms ever mine

So what is recovery?
Is it that tingle in your cheeks
When the corners of your mouth meet
Upwards.
Is it that sparkle in your eyes
Because they're no longer suffocated by your cries and you now have the potential to realise
You are strong.
Is it that glimpse of light, that for so long had been out of sight, that you cling onto tight, through fear
It's only temporary.
Is it rediscovering yourself, rebuilding your health and developing a new wealth
Of coping mechanisms.
Is it realigning the chemical imbalances in your brain, so you no longer feel insane, so there's not less pain
But a mind that can handle it.
Is it the glimpse in the mirror where you don't turn in horror but you greet and honour the person that you are.
Is it the fear, that's consumed you year by year, that's brought the end so near,
That starts to evaporate.
Is it eating a meal, and not having to feel like
You need to punish yourself.
Is it hearing voices, but no longer allowing them to dictate your choices,
Because they don't own you anymore.
Is it putting down the bottle, because you're fed up of the throttle
It had you in.
Is it the feeling when you finally win
Back your own heart and mind
When finally you look inside
And don't find
Darkness but light,
When the night no longer scares you
And the days you can finally pull through
Or is it simply a phase
A gaze at what could never be
For there is no clarity,
No prospect to be free
In chains and nooses
And scars and bars.
In bodies that fight to survive
Trapped inside a mind that fights to take our lives.

Some of us; shall never be undone
We fight a war;
That could Never be won.

Maybe

Maybe* she won't cry today,
And maybe he won't lie today,
And maybe life goes on today,
But maybe I'll be wrong today.

Maybe I'll be strong today,
And maybe tears won't fall today,
But maybe he'll break down today,
Because maybe she won't die today.

Maybe things get better today,
And maybe I'll write the letter today,
Maybe I'll sign my name in ink,
But maybe that's a permanent link.

Maybe that's too much for me,
Maybe "attached" is something I don't wanna be,
And maybe it'd be painful to watch,
Over the years; Death's painful march.

And maybe she'll go down today,
And maybe things won't be okay,
And maybe he'll give up and say,
That maybe he'll just run away.

But maybe I'll just cry today,
Maybe that's a better way.
Maybe that's my job today,
Maybe I'll just try to be okay.

Because maybe it's important to grieve,
And maybe it's okay to leave,
A little room to be left for me,
A little time to simply breath.

Maybe I should put myself first,
And maybe it wouldn't be the worst,
To maybe just take care of me,
Instead of being the one in lead.

*Maybe.

Monday.

First day of the week.

He was absent. Was he sick?

I took a glance at the empty chair.

How I wish he was sitting there.

I hope tomorrow I’ll get the chance to see him.

Cause a day is not a day without him.



Tuesday.

I came at school early,

Wanting to see him badly.

There was a sad smile coated on my face,

When I didn't see him at his usual place.

His chair was still empty.

What happened to him?

I have no idea.

I have no clue.

All I knew, I was feeling blue.

I tried to brush my thoughts away,

And just listened at the class all day.

I thought I’m okay,

That I was feeling fine.

But when I saw his chair empty,

I knew my smile was not happy.



Wednesday.

Crestfallen and disappointed.

He was still not here.

I could feel the emptiness in my mind.

Just like the empty chair in my behind.

I asked my classmates,

They just shrugged their shoulders.

I asked his friends, they don’t know why.

Soon my dark eyes began to cry.



Thursday.

Too many question popped in my head.

Frustrated and confused,

I committed a major offense.

I fled from school during recess.

I want to see him today,

To know the reason of that young man,

Why for four days he was gone.

There was no one in their house.

Only their old maid.

“Where could I find him?” I asked her.

She gave me a piece of paper.

I went home with a heavy heart.

It felt like my world was drifted apart.

I looked at the paper once again,

Tears fell down while reading them.

I don’t how to endure this kind of ache,

I kept on telling it was just a mistake.



FRIDAY.

Fresh flowers I brought,

I put them on the ground.

I smiled bitterly,

As I read his name in the tomb.

“I love you.”  I whispered.

I didn't hear anything in return.

“I love you!” I shouted.

Hoping he’ll answer me at ease.

But all I heard was the sound of the trees.

I cried again..

How many tears should I cry,

For him to come back?

For him to be with me again?

To feel his warmth.

To smell his scent.

To stare at his eyes.

It was too late.

Too late…



Saturday.

I wept until I could no longer feel the pain.



Sunday.

I did what I've done yesterday.



Monday..

I come to school.

Act as if nothing happen,

They asked me if I’m fine,

I nodded and smiled.  

While walking into our room,  

Wearing fake mask behind my gloom.

But tears fell again on my face,

When I didn't see him at his usual place.

I glance at the empty chair,

How I wish he was sitting there.