Nov 2021
i ventured past the memory lane
and filled the broken soul with delight
it's foolish how first love mended me
in a way not one possibly can
how every reminisce is enthralling to embrace like a glistened storyframe
one that tickles hope of another reason to live;
it's foolish how firsts remain striking
the times that were everglowing, enchanting
there's no need for weariness, when somebody accepted me for who I am
sweared to stay forever–in victories and downfalls.
frightening how a perfectly written story by a god turns stormed and wicked
how my ceaseless heart slowly is tormented
when i thought the first would keep its words
silly of me to assume
but all goes into hues of blues
and when i thought he's the sunlight
to my ****, cold melancholic night
he left on a windy day alike a flowing kite
with no proper goodbyes
and shattered his promises one by one
like a rushing ambulance, crashing dreams in a scene of dawn and fires
at that point, i knew that the garden we've grown are closely wilting
going back at one, a stranger, whom i treated like an art
carefully realizing— no apologies can now return an exhausted heart
no prayers could turn back the twisted time
and no wishes from the stars could heal the scars and damaged mind
hurting thyself, is it a mere nightmare?
my body felt a sensation of falling
not in love, but defying gravity slowly from a skyscraper
at the broad daylight, my old self died
and eternally—a part of me has bid rage and farewell
like a child departing from her long-time bestfriend
in a dilemma, everything has been changing as fast as the thunderbolt
i ventured past the memory lane
and filled the broken soul with regret
it's foolish how first love broke me
in a way not one possibly can
how every reminisce battled me at night
and turned me frail
tomorrow, i knew, there were no reasons to live furthermore
it's foolish how I thought the first would be last,
with all timelines, phases, and secrets shared from past;
however, here's to our history, and to my self
who thought of finding genuine love from a stranger
finally, devouring the crept of once again, being lost.
and filled the broken soul with delight
it's foolish how first love mended me
in a way not one possibly can
how every reminisce is enthralling to embrace like a glistened storyframe
one that tickles hope of another reason to live;
it's foolish how firsts remain striking
the times that were everglowing, enchanting
there's no need for weariness, when somebody accepted me for who I am
sweared to stay forever–in victories and downfalls.
frightening how a perfectly written story by a god turns stormed and wicked
how my ceaseless heart slowly is tormented
when i thought the first would keep its words
silly of me to assume
but all goes into hues of blues
and when i thought he's the sunlight
to my ****, cold melancholic night
he left on a windy day alike a flowing kite
with no proper goodbyes
and shattered his promises one by one
like a rushing ambulance, crashing dreams in a scene of dawn and fires
at that point, i knew that the garden we've grown are closely wilting
going back at one, a stranger, whom i treated like an art
carefully realizing— no apologies can now return an exhausted heart
no prayers could turn back the twisted time
and no wishes from the stars could heal the scars and damaged mind
hurting thyself, is it a mere nightmare?
my body felt a sensation of falling
not in love, but defying gravity slowly from a skyscraper
at the broad daylight, my old self died
and eternally—a part of me has bid rage and farewell
like a child departing from her long-time bestfriend
in a dilemma, everything has been changing as fast as the thunderbolt
i ventured past the memory lane
and filled the broken soul with regret
it's foolish how first love broke me
in a way not one possibly can
how every reminisce battled me at night
and turned me frail
tomorrow, i knew, there were no reasons to live furthermore
it's foolish how I thought the first would be last,
with all timelines, phases, and secrets shared from past;
however, here's to our history, and to my self
who thought of finding genuine love from a stranger
finally, devouring the crept of once again, being lost.
