The stillness of the earth, after the rain;
Takes my breath away, once again;

Your memories at rest,
My soul bequeath;

Those forgotten days,
Reminders of the haze;

Scars in the heart,
Barring the art;

The flow of emotions,
Became a halo of notions;

Those heartfelt things,
Were nothing but ruins;

Some escapades,
From my failures;

Beautifully carved,
On the canvas of life;

Presented to you,
My mistake;

Will try not to,
Repent what had been a stake..

Your eyes were the culprits,
They made me their victim;

We suffered together,
For neither could speak;

Afraid to love,
Unable to express..

Withering away,
With the bond intact;

Two blooming flowers,
Caressed by the showers;

United by fate,
Separated by twaite;

You & I waited,
While our souls mated..

Hope a faded dream of delusions of concepts never told
Dust settling while minds grow old
Pathways closed but never ending, grass yellow, brown... dead.
Surrounding a pale landscape of a future written, forgotten.
Today is tomorrow, we are still alone
Forever never grown.

for the first time,
i didn't write a prose about you;
on how i savoured
your genuine “I love you”
with a tender kiss on my cheeks.
i neither bled myriads of poetry
compiled with the string of our promises
embedded in each page,
nor composed songs
through the daily and nightly stars
we have beheld by the ocean.

it felt different yet peaceful.
i was not bothered if you would or not love it—
there were no monsters whispering me.
there has no river formed within my soul,
and only the music of my own serene falls
told me to sleep and don't bother—
for deep inside my heart knew
that even if i made you an ocean of music boxes,
wrote you mountains of my written fondness,
and produced you millions of songs,
you wouldn't remember
today's the day you promised me
an eternal devotion—a life with no sorrow.

All I ever get is your ashes:
The macaroni dinner you burned,
The last part of your jokes,
The short end of your smokes,
And the last ones will be in your urn.

Flicker, flicker to the patter of the rain
So fragile, desperate to live, the tiny little flame
Long shadows cast onto the stone wall behind
Lighting up the writings, the words on the walls
Describing the anthem of a nation forgotten
Sole legacy of once glorious days

Wish on a star, a shooting star
for the death of a star is another old god being forgotten.