Could you live with the night in your sunny universe?
Could you accommodate a tear in your vast smile?
Could you stay awake when all you needed was sleep?
Could you fool yourself in thinking everything was fine?
Could you carry the burden of the past knowing it wasn’t one of yours?
Could you be fine for you and i both?
Could you desire when i had lost hope?
Could you hope when i despaired?
Could you be ruined for the sake of my reputation?
Could you replace your warmth with my chill?
Could you truly make me yours when i’m not even mine anymore?
Could you feel when I went numb?
Could you live with knowing that it was a path of thorns you were walking on?
Could you spin poetry from the unwritten prose i served you?
I like treasure hunts. I like history. I like the thought of ‘El Dorado’ existing somewhere in my backyard. I like the search for things long gone. I strive to achieve the impossible. Yes, I like living in the past. Call me an escapist but I like fiction over nonfiction. It is more peaceful than the latter and allows room for imagination and possibilities. And I like my options.
Today I sit looking into the horizon;
the colours are similar-
similar to the day we sat hand in hand
staring at the skyline.
Our eyeballs had changed colors;
our mouths had been shut;
but our hearts rang with music.
You told me that day-
this is not the end.
A goodbye said today
is a hello said tomorrow.
You will live in me
as a vague memory;
An unforgotten feeling;
A half remembered poem.
We dreamt of the day we would meet.
Once again as sailors in this sea;
In an unknown latitude.
Then the memory would turn into reality;
The feeling would spring out from our depths;
The poem would ring loud and clear.
Goodbye- you said- was redundant.
I believed you for the fool i was.
Maybe the latitude and time are non existent.
Maybe your words were mere words.
But all i know, for now,
I remember you in the horizon;
I don’t need your promise.
A goodbye is a goodbye-
full and final.
The next we meet;
If we meet;
We meet as strangers.
The boat we float on,
you forget, is time.
And we are both its victims.
So goodbye my friend.
It was good knowing you.