The last time we met I said
that I will see you again and I meant it.
I, a defeated soldier will walk with an empty gun and a radio in a war
for as long as the song reminds me of lost love, your feet stepping out of the door
The mean gravity of love, sticks us to the ground when we are meant to fly, merry go round the moon.
I wish hopeless Romance could live in a world outside your favourite song but it will die in our fists because I am 21 and scared I never open my fists even as you hold them
It will die and the world shall write a song about it
Our children will sing that song,
And like silver blade it will cut their tongues
The song of hopeless love
It will cut th--eir words
Make them a victim of speaking through music and poetry
I do not wish to speak through music and poetry
I wish to speak
They will lose their words, their voice, their gun, they will close their fists and write letters that’ll never reach the mailbox.
The end of the world will be a lover waiting by the door, watering the hope growing in the fist for years only to die in the hands of fate.
My nana, a victim of his own memory
Did not get to say Goodbye to the woman he loved my nani
Amnesia saved him from waiting by the door,
He met her eventually in the world of ever after but after how long, how late.
So I believe you get to love once
And when you do
Love comes alone.
Like only a single song to survive a tornado without a boat,
only a single star in a never ending sea.
So you get to live with one,
A life with memories or a fleeting moment of kissing amidst a war.
We’re walking towards each other,
contained in a round crystal ball that rotates in a glittery snowstorm
A Frenzy full beauty, our lives, round in circles we never find an end
There is no Centre here,no end
there is war going outside and an open door
and behind that,
I see you, finally.
You stand tall,16 again, beautiful.
Our love will knock me off my feet again
but I must ask myself,
“For how long?”
-Ridhi
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