Looking at my surrounding
for the last time.
Wringing my fingers,
Sitting on bench,
Watching the wave's
untiring attempt of kissing the shore.
Waiting on your arrival
for our last meet.
Fist-sized organ
weeping inside.
Cauliflower shaped organ
building stone wall.
A war being prepared.
Stone wall,
the surrounding borders.
Calmness,
the frontline warrior.
Reasoning,
the receiver area.
Everything is ready for
the war uncalled.
You came,
unsteady steps,
I stand,
looking at your face
for the last time.
You look good,
as always.
Not a hint of
sadness, anxiousness
in your pupil.
I knew,
the war has
already begun.
A war between
your words and my soul.
"You look good.",
you say.
Not a glance at
my blank face.
This face was
most beautiful picture
captured by your vision.
A white lie resurfacing
the top layer.
I shrug,
trying to
loosen the burden
my shoulders are
witnessing through
your word.
You are going
on and on,
with the only tagline of,
"I never loved you."
My soldiers on the
frontline go
ramrod still.
Numbness,
spreading like the
wildfire in forest.
"I care for you,
But never was
in love with you."
Those words,
never flew like the
leaves flying in,
Autumn's breeze.
My eyes matching the
chilly blanket,
surrounding us,
Cold.
Louder the waves,
Higher the rage
among the soldiers.
Breaking their exterior,
running out on field
screaming out,
exercising their lungs.
Eyes open to
your frowning face.
"Are you okay?"
Your care glistening
from voice.
"Never been better",
muttering I give back,
the only thing
my warriors agree on,
Smile.
"Have happy life."
those words came from
my frontline daredevils.
I start walking
leaving you behind.
Noticing trees, shedding their
worn out leaves,
making space for new ones.
Weather,
changing every few months.
Just like,
Autumn
chaning into
Spring.
Prideness,
flowing in the veins
for my,
frontline soldiers,
Calmness.
"Only you are meant
to walk on your road."
My mother's wisdom
fills my ears.
Walking on my journey,
starting a new adventure,
getting prepped for
new fights.
Taking most needed moral of this curve,
"Care for yourself."
Its my little
minions,
who took care of me,
today,
tomorrow,
yesterday.
Looking at my surrounding
for the last time.
YOU ARE READING
Illusion
PoetryUnsaid thoughts..... Unsaid words.... Unsaid feelings.... Unsaid adventures of my mind....