Tuesday, January 19, 2016

Broken Burnt Bridges





Sometimes memories shine like sun
through the window of your heart,
transient hope jumps,
flapping its wings before falling
like this dark night that best defines us now.

Your fear of loss made me lose myself,
now you stand across the bridge,
burnt and broken.
A sudden waft of breeze brings the fragrance of friendship, fanning the dust that is piling over the pages that we wrote once.

You had ventured into the valley of flowers,
looking for orchids,
two winters later you still stood there,
waiting for them to grow,
alone and aloof.

One such night, I dragged you away.
That night it rained and it has been the same ever since.

Now sometimes when rain brings rainbows,
I search in them the colour that best described us,
and mind scribbles verses that never found voices,
wailing guitar tunes which never could fight the tides.

Then one day you turned away with your moist eyes,
across the bridge, I watched in despair.
And all I can do was wait.

If someday,
you return to this broken bridge,
you will find you here.
I wish you do,
we will cry together
and talk about the futility of love and life then.

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