And I cannot find you,
I lay near,
And have thoughts of you guide me,
Into memories I have learnt to keep dear.
Because they make me,
They define me,
and who I am,
Is all I have,
when you are not near.
At the war front,
Let these very memories be your armour.
So should you be filled with fear,
All you ever need to do is search inside.
Don't look back,
A what could have been,
And wasn't.
What should've been.
Because I'm here.
Not a single memory will blow,
In the winds that touch my face,
But not as soft as yours.
You should be here.
Where I can lend an ear,
To more than a phone to my ear.
Past are the weeks,
Months and years,
Of things you've not seen but only hear,
No regrets,
Nor tears,
just far-cast fears,
Of how many more I have to wait,
Months and years.
No comments:
Post a Comment