Longing For A Love That Wasn’t Born Yet

Through the midst of your bitter absence I ran to chase the echoes to our late memories, ran to salute the buried love beneath the misfit words, where all hopes promised not to believe, and all dreams were deceived to be dreamed, where I was born ruthlessly only to die peacefully, to seek for the lights among the creepy shadows, carrying myself away, sailing towards the destiny that I was compelled to chase.

And so I weep for all that is left of you, for the rotting pieces which you have filled in my heart, and yet I yearn to hear the words you won’t be telling me, for the kiss that has not meant to be real, and the tender touch which seems to be lost beyond the fingerprints of my doomed days, for with all the wishful passions that I have now missing, how will I ever let go of all the moments that we won’t be having?!

Oh my dear beloved, where have you gone? How did you manage to leave this mournful soul for the cruelty of the chaotic hopes? And oh my dear beloved, forever I shall be longing for a love that wasn’t born yet.

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