Every beginning has an end, so does love stories and here is my thought about how I feel and a reason why I hate… love stories.
Talking to each other
With endless words and moments,
Sharing and caring
Even the distance and differences,
Of being casted oddly together
Went on planning a bond forever…
Never noticing the time on watch
Kept passing for a long walk,
And living stress free…
First time in years things were ever at peace,
Wow! What a relief,
hard to believe that I am living
And hell yeah, I am loving
But, of course it can not last forever,
Happiness comes with an expiry,
I should have known,
Not believing in fairyland and its story.
It gets fade and so did happened,
As slowly things have changed.
I lost my roads
Along with missing hues,
And I couldn’t know how?
But, I looked stranger, more to me,
I missed being me,
How can I define?
I just wanted to be free.
So am I…
Feel alone, again
Stranded on a dead end, and yet again
In every step of life
When I choose to walk
When I am trying to talk
this always has to happen…
It starts so pure, organic,
and then with no pre warnings,
it just ends like a sinking titanic.
RIP: love and the damn creepy stories.