A lamp sits lightly,
In a world veiled blue,
Pairs of eyes look longingly;
Iridescent their hue.

The flowers wilted, dried up, lonely on the sill,
They stay a lifetime in the blue room.
With dancing petals falling still.

Shoes untied in a corner,
Their laces unfurled on the wood,
As their soles grow older,
They stay firmly where they stood.

In a rocking chair, alone he sat,
Creaking softly to and fro,
The food tastes empty, as the doormat,
His cheeks gaunt, lackluster; no glow.

On the bed, tired and lost, she lay,
Her shoulders tremble and lips quiver,
Regretfully wishing the day away.

In his rolled up, off-white, worn down tee,
His dark wash, tea-stained, black paint jeans,
He lights a cigarette and pays the fee,
Takes a drag to catch a break; never mind the means.

In her faded, washed out, burgundy sun dress,
Her long cut, well knit, light beige lace,
She pulls out a cigarette too, lightless,
Heaving a sigh to cut the still;
never mind saving face.

He turns reluctantly, a pain in his eye,
The lightless, lifeless and heartless,
Melts his soul, threatening to die,

He pulls out a flame to spark a revolution,
Her eye’s light speaks just the same;
A mutual solution.