Only the sea knows what the waves scream by the day and turns silent by the rising of moon,
Thick silence around and chaos in the spirit, Sometimes you wish no one hears what’s in you, neither your lips wish to move.
Broken he fell in my lap, I prepared him for the fight and he left for a war with himself. Soon he will leave the battle field of blood and mass and depart for the high.
Left behind will be me, breathing heavy and trying to hide the hollow crack. Once again I shall hold a hand who feels only he is meant to gather the scattered me
He shall watch his last wish come true from the clouds while someone holds me and makes me move on burying the pain to the deepest valley in the heart.
May be the role ends here. The heart dares no more to dream the complete master piece as it does not trust the one who holds the ticking hands of clock, Some canvases look beautiful when incomplete …..