Two broken hearts,
oh, they’ve been squeezed so hard,
by the hands of the destiny? yes, maybe,
and yet they parade the streets,
marching on the tune only they understand,
it’s a way to the dreamland!
Two sets of eyes, both spectacled,
and yet spectacularly readable,
sometimes the pearls of sadness, not so frequent on the shore,
sometimes the awkward glances, and yet a playful galore,
reading the unsaid stories, propagated on the wind,
by the silence in between,
an absence has never been so abundant before!
A set of random notes on a table,
and the photos smiling on a wall,
a gallery to the past, and a reflection of the present,
with lights that spread a message,
creation by a gentle wave of a finger,
on a neck that looks proudly at the feelings on display!
Two tired birds, back in the nest,
one ready to fly, towards the uncertainty that awaits,
parting is a line in the black, darkness is a fact,
but not tonight, say the broken hearts,
as they listen to the beats of their counterparts,
the world dissolves in their arms,
and just a dream prevails!
Two stories, with two different endings,
yet so intertwined,
both incomplete without each other,
forbidden labels, but the feeling is love,
oh, poor broken hearts, you can’t be together,
but the streets will weep, in your memories forever!
The metaphor for the eyes is really nice.✨💫
Well written.
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Thanks a lot, Chetna 🙂
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You made sadness a beautiful emotion, kudos! 🙌🏻
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Thanks a lot, AGS 🙂
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