Bumped upon few of your letters
Even for a moment, felt I was loved just by reading it
cz you might certainly not know but it’s pretty lonely here..
in my heart for the past few years
And frighteningly so but your love still echoes in my heart and I long for it on some days like this..nothing new about it now I’m sure..
Not written for the past few years,
my heart feels empty..
nothing ignites a spark
nothing aches my soul..
what do I write if not letters to you..
the ones you’ll never read..
the ones upon which I’ll be mocked upon to have been stuck on for so long..
What do I write?
As if the only subject of both my affection and words were you for so long..
That I have lost the will to even set my inspiration on someone or something else upon
Too long I recall, to have forgotten everything
But how do I explain that I still long for
Not just the pretty words but the ardent storms you brought in my soul
Not only the smiles and showers of laughter I have borrowed from you
But also the tears of agony you’ve lent me
Written a lot about many other things for a decade
Stuck on you was this poet
After a whirlwind of love, the story we shared..
Written none of you
But all for you
And yet here I stand
Aching to write
A little about me and the world around
And you stand there smiling
As if you are what everything surrounds..
Incomplete as I’m
Incomplete shall this poem remain..
I await you and so the poem awaits..
Ignited is just one flame
Today upon glancing at you
after ages
I wonder if the poet in me loved you more than me
Betrayed I am by you,
By her
Forgotten is love
Forgotten is the entire Avenue..
Alone sits the writer staring at the empty sky
Alone mourns the lover
With no hope in her eyes..
The finer taste of Life 