His last breath and he thought
pretty hard. For all he left were the moments with this girl beside him.
Her eyes told a different story though,
but still her hand never left his.
Every other voice didn't matter to him now,
Even his slow heartbeats
This was what he wanted.
The woman he loved life long,
That life which was about to get deceased,
and he wanted to leave with a grin.
She became his nostalgia.
She became his reality.
And then a voice interrupted.
A voice familiar, which woke him, startled.
A women. A different women.