I stood there in the gloomy night,
Searching for the silhouettes of light.
Closed my eyes as I gulped dismay,
Only to find my heart beat in an awkward way.
It did that once before,
A long time ago.
When a girl had passed by dressed in yellow.
Little did I know that she would turn out this way,
Be a part of life,
And then life itself.
But here I am standing all alone,
Feeling the void of my hand;
Sweat on the skin dripping where I stand.
Even the void misses your,
And so does my bones,
You ignited them once upon a time,
And now they are like coals of a mine.
Now I know how the wolf feels,
Howling; yearning the moon as it stands still.
Crying for it will all it can,
Dying everyday and getting born,
Yet losing a part of itself with each respawn.
And here I sit in the first row,
Losing my identity with each blow.
Crumbling myself into pieces,
As I try to swim against the flow.
And in the back of my mind,
A thought runs through,
“Kill me now so that I can be with you”.
But it has indeed taught me some golden lessons,
For each life made,
There’s always a song.
And mine had too until;
Until I lost you.
And as I collect pieces of mine,
Which breaks into million more with each decline,
It slits my skin like shards of mirror,
And in each of the piece I see an image clear,
A soul alone, a body in fear.
As the songs in my life stopped,
I learned,
It indeed hadn’t.
It just left me numb,
And filled me with dark,
But that dark now is peace to me,
Dreams have become real than reality.
Scars have become a habit,
The swim against the flow,
Has indeed taught me;
You don’t die until death tells you so,
The wolf will never get to feel the moon’s glow,
And as I listen to the void I learned,
Even silence is a genre.