For ever
We pretend
And assure ourselves
Of our immediate present
as a foregone past.
Acidifying our senses,
Our emotions and our reactions,
Should I believe
We aren't together anymore ?
Still we act so natural.
But do we ?
Actually?
In our stackfull of memories
We see each other,
Feel each other,
Understand &
Reciprocate
But still choose to believe
there exists nothing,
Anymore,
After that mutually dreadful day.
So
I want to ask you just once,
Then why do you
breathe a silent sigh
Whenever I say
"good bye..." !!
To meet and act as strangers
Is so easy for our nerves
That we just forget
Its not that so to
Depart as lovers.
Some questions are self-explaining.
If not,
Then I will take
that sigh for an assurance...
Anyday
With you around.
Relation unnamed.
SoUmY@
And assure ourselves
Of our immediate present
as a foregone past.
Acidifying our senses,
Our emotions and our reactions,
Should I believe
We aren't together anymore ?
Still we act so natural.
But do we ?
Actually?
In our stackfull of memories
We see each other,
Feel each other,
Understand &
Reciprocate
But still choose to believe
there exists nothing,
Anymore,
After that mutually dreadful day.
So
I want to ask you just once,
Then why do you
breathe a silent sigh
Whenever I say
"good bye..." !!
To meet and act as strangers
Is so easy for our nerves
That we just forget
Its not that so to
Depart as lovers.
Some questions are self-explaining.
If not,
Then I will take
that sigh for an assurance...
Anyday
With you around.
Relation unnamed.
SoUmY@
Powered by ScribeFire.
Comments
also wondered so many kinds HE has created.
i say this again n again but im not tired
u really catch those emotions so well
bravo!
jam packed with both this poem truly is!
If not,
Then I will take
that sigh for an assurance...
Anyday
With you around.
Relation unnamed.
Goosebumps...! Kuchch rishte aise bhi hote hain jiske naam nahin hote.. is a dialogue from some film I enjoyed watching, cannot remember the name, sadly:)
But this one surpasses expectation and progresses to satiate a place within the heart, for whom reasons and names do not exist. It feels, and so it loves, and therefore exists.
A beautiful poem, Soumya!