• marlyn_haolai 1w

    I dread that spark
    a glimpse of forlornity
    starkly robbed of serendipity,
    that, when you leave,
    I'll be staring at that ash
    where memoirs of you
    will be engraved.
    I, then deceived,
    will reminisce of you
    and be hating on fate.
    When I have brought myself
    to bade adieu
    the rain will wash you away
    and I wouldn't help
    to not be wrecked of self.