You once told me
That we're bound to
Be star-crossed lovers
Ill-fated by the Norns
Doomed to fail from
The very start

And so we remain
Perfectly unfinished
A bittersweet loose end
Beautifully haunting the
Back of my mind to
The end of my days

in a very large labyrinth
a lone walker wanders
once was a figure danced, bathed in light
now an echo fading into night

each step forward, under the moon
carries a whisper of a tune
a melody once sweets, bitter now it seems
for love shared by one, alive was at least in dreams

the hearts solace, memories fray
yet there’s relief in the unravelling
from the grasp of a love that never did spread.

In this gentle release, both sorrow and grace,
For a heart that loved alone, finds its own space.
No longer tethered by what could have been,
Embracing the stillness, of love unseen.

I ask for no love to linger, nor fade into blue,
But for memories to visit, as old friends often do.

unburdened now, but i miss the weight’s hold.
that gentle hold.

What will a bittersweet reality do?
when love and faith are tainted,
when doubt always cuts through.
A sleepwalk through the day,
and the deluded closes their eyes anew.

What can a bittersweet reality do?
to a mind convicted to its own room.
Seeing the side I've chosen,
becoming what used to make me fume.

And so the storm comes looming in fast,
but not the one from clouds.
The dreams of mine were always big,
but my nightmares are just as vast.

And so the wind welcomes destruction,
and the rain melts my shackles.
A friend is standing before me,
the cause of my reconstruction.

Whenever she opens her eyes, she writes poetry,
And with every breath, she pens dreams effortlessly.

Whenever she talks, the universe leans in to hear,
Whenever she thinks, she paints skies crystal clear.

Whenever she's near, my soul finds its beat,
Yet somehow, we're strangers, destined never to meet.

In the middle of midnight,
Night and morning kiss and part:
Parting is such sweet sorrow.

Inside my body,
And inside my mind,
There’s a little child,
A child with colours—bittersweet.

I know not if she’s sad or happy,
But I do know she loves to paint,
My body in a colourful tent,
So I let her be.

Now that my body has grown,
The tent doesn’t fit.
But I do not complain,
For I do not wish to see her eyes watery lit.

Every night I lose my sleep,
In wondering,
If she could have a world’s peep.
But alas! My darling,

Will never receive love akin to mine in the world.
Even if the tent becomes cold,
I must stay.
I don’t think I should ever let her go,
Despite my body’s dents.

Being smothered in a colourful tent,
Is better than seeing my darling woe.

Dying petals adorn the sidewalk
They're varying pigments document life's varying stages of leaving,
Thwarts drafts of wind, their nature
to revel in my gaze
Not in act of personification,
They are not the object of attraction
No,
But a messenger to the careful stepper,
“Look up.”

As the liquor passed down my throat
And my face remained stagnant
I felt a sense of warmth in my chest
It wasn’t just the drink
It was a sense of pride
Maybe I was good at something.
I was really good at not letting go
I clung on and on
All I wanted was to be with you
I knew it was selfish
I also knew it was truth
You were all that mattered
And if something mattered then I mattered
If something stayed then I would stay
If you thought I was good
Maybe I was good at something.