beauty, creative-writing, Fiction & Poetry, fiction and poetry, Life, Love, Poems, Poetry, sadness

Image

There were reasons.
These walls smelled of you,
The little sparrows lost their way.
A graveyard of flowers,
withered in silence.
Everything you touched,
had turned into an insoluble memory.

So I held my syllables,
I forgave the explanations.
I forgot the time.
For, If I whispered,
it will all be true.
You will be gone.
You will become something,
I cannot comprehend.
The absence will become an image.
For which, I believe,
I am not ready.
No one could ever be.

© Shashank Bhardwaj

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