Golden rays pour in, A mellow red on my eyelids, And the sky remains grey, still, Irrational fears, blinking back tears, Haunted by all I ever did, Eyes flutter open against my will. Why, these scars still bleed! All these traces they leave, Traces I fooled myself there’d never be, Perhaps, we all fall prey To wishful thinking of those good old days, To love and to people that walk away. Pretty little pictures we painted, Remember when I was your muse? Seems like a dream so distant, Sweet little laughs, rose-tinted, Heady and high on a love We didn’t know was doomed to fail, How foolish it is to hope That a love so cursed could prevail! So frail and fragile, our poor hearts, Did it hurt you when we were ripped apart? Perhaps not so much, after all, It was your own doing, My heart and your knife– How brutal, one must think! Oh, but the roads you had to walk alone, Did they ever take you home? Or are you, lost, stranded Deep in the woods, like I’ve been? Out in the dreadful cold, There’s nowhere to go back to, Lonelier still the farther you go, Away from what you abandoned.
This poem was not supposed to take the sudden, angsty turn, but it is what it turned into and I liked it so much that I decided to keep it that way. It’s not so much about a person or a lost love as it is about things that love to do, but abandon because life gets in the way. But, hey, poems have way too many interpretations, so, I’ll leave that one up to you. I hope you like it. Yours truly, The Shubhster. Xx
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