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Swan song

Poetry By: bismoy
Memoir



True love becomes wine when killed...but it never expires...


Submitted:Sep 26, 2013    Reads: 29    Comments: 4    Likes: 3   


It just seems like yesterday when holding my little finger;
You wanted to explore the little world surrounding us...
A baby you were to me like in the meadows you were grown;
With each passing moment in the bond new memories were sown...


But you have now grown up maybe,decide to part ways thinking of the future...
Bolted from the blue,thrown to the grave,was everything we nurtured.
It never got completed,the very sonnet we were singing;
For from that very grave came the scent of my longing....


Marooned in the island of despair,everyone known to me looked unfamiliar;
I was running helter-skelter,for my very fortune proved to be a liar...
I knew then why life is so beautiful with a soul aplenty with emotions...
And when the uncalled line was drawn,the existence just became a machine with flesh and bones.


Crawling on the floor of our past,i try to pick up all the memories...
Entwining it in my killed soul i begin a lonely journey.
Treading on the desert following a nonexisting mirage,i sing the swan-song;
But i pray that you still wear that precious smile,for that was the very purpose of my love...





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