The door was ajar
I saw the light
I wriggled my neck through
then gave up the fight
Like a frail shadow
she stood there, unmindful
I soaked in her presence
till the last breath was full
A fading light, she was
sneaking through the slit
of my dead longing eyes
only to die before they meet
I know memories can't run
neither the moon will fade
nor will be lost in the blazing sun
everyday it will cut me like a blade
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5 comments:
dat was kinda vampirish...luvd da darkness of it!!!
why do we hesitate? why do we not go that last few steps..
memmories are beautiful.. but do we have to live on memories only?
nice subtle questions asked in the poem...
i liked it :)
btw, i wud like to invite u to join a small community i handle
http://friends-park.blogspot.com/
take a look and tell me if u have any question about it.
Memories keep coming back, and when it is about something/someone we once beheld and had to let go, it definitely cuts like a blade. It hurts. We may wish to cry, we may wish to seek it again but all those desires are futile as we may never be able to bring back those days.
Cheers.
Wonderful ... looks like memories came looking for you through the slit of the door. Keep pulling them out ... and relate them with your verses.
Loved reading this!
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