• what_heart_desires 23w

    Hundreds of night have passed...
    Still I am deep busy in my past...

    Every night I went for sleep...
    It slipped through my wrist or so it seems...

    Hundreds of bright morning...
    Still I wake up mourning...

    I miss those days ....
    When I slept with you, not with your portraits..

    Every dark night...
    I face the real fight...

    I miss those days...
    When I kissed you not your grave...

    My last fear came true...
    Loving your memories rather loving the real you...
    ©what_heart_desires_