love died
when the promising vows became lamented regrets,
love ceased
when the romantic serenades became mournful requiems,
love faded
when we became strangers and our hearts snubbed each other's existence.
love is vague and abstruse,
it can either be fruitful or destructive.
our story began with flowery poems and lush ruddy roses,
it ended with torn photographs of us together
and agonizing farewells written in a tanned paper.
—fomalhaut, 041621
YOU ARE READING
Gloomy Days, Serene Nights
Poetryour mind is like the winter. cold, matured, senesced, rational and silent. our heart is like the summer. warm, innocent, vernal, vehement and vibrant. they are polar opposites. however, when we write, those two are fused. the heart be the faucet o...
