Your voice is still around
And the joy we once found.
The letters on the ground
And the whisper of a song,
Reminding me of tales that belong,
To us and the memories that linger on.
Our crazy bond will be forever strong
If you, by any chance, decide to return.
The thoughts of you stay all day long
And I can’t see what is right and what is wrong.
Is life deceiving, or am I just blind?
Or is it the famous war between the heart and mind?
Or is it a story of each one of humankind?
Loving, then leaving everything behind
But what if what we left behind is what we will find again?
About the Creator
Ikram YF.
A reader and someone who is trying to understand what the flower is wrong with the world. I am also interested in mental health, racial and gender issues. :)
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Masquerade Party
At six feet seven inches tall and approximately two hundred fifty pounds, Samael presented an imposing figure when he walked into a room. His physical stature may be impressive, but his demeanor is the opposite. The shy, some might say, reclusive personality that he developed as a young boy followed him into manhood. His favorite job was crunching numbers in a quiet one man back office of a fiduciary firm. He was always polite, greeting his fellow workers with a “good morning” or “good afternoon” as he walked to the back of the office where his little hideaway was located, but never tried to engage in conversations.
By Mark Gagnon2 days ago in Horror
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