Caressing the warmth of the candlelight,
your voice soars through the wind,
Like the doves set free in the breeze,
An insight to the world's disasters,
The oucome of unrequited love,
The tale of sorries and purposes.
How I wish I knew what you want me to say.
For now, I just listen.
To the silent song of your heartbeat,
So distant but it echoes in the clocks.
Reminders of fading minutes.
The world waits, or is it just me?
I know what I'm doing, I hope.
And so do you.
So do you.
I meant every word I said.
But maybe you don't either.
Or so it seems,
I have not forgotten everything.
I just didn't take the time to remember,
When I made dangerous commitments,
It looks like I've stuck to them.
Unmeant, perhaps?
I don't think so.
I don't think so.
How the times have changed.
How our lives have changed.
All it seems to be is lost,
But all it is has not.
Just know this:
you look mighty fine tonight,
your voice echoing through the wind.
The distance is getting to me.
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© Nishant Mehrotra, 2006 |
Submission Name: Two-Faced Solace
