Photo by trail on Unsplash

Every evening I go out to meet my loneliness,
On the barren fields sometimes I plant new roses.
These paths have become dark, but the destination is bright,
My pockets are storing memories, but sadly pockets have holes.

Whenever I meet you, I meet myself,
Whenever I talk with myself about you I get upset.
Why is my mind running faster than these lanes?
These pockets are storing memories, but my pockets have holes.

I am walking towards you …

It is, of course, no coincidence,
That the sun should rise each day.
And then set into the ocean, calling out to the dusk.
It is not by chance that the moon rises …

Photo by Sapan Patel on Unsplash

The moon plays hide-and-seek among the silver of the clouds like a child.
The waves were always meant to break themselves against rocks.
And it is the earth’s will to rotate,
And the free will of the leaves to dance to the wind’s song.

And just like that,
It is no coincidence that you and I were to cross paths.
It was meant to be,
The most unlikely of chances, and yet the most beautiful.

To have your hand in mine,
Is not mere fortitude,
But the will of the stars themselves.
And for us to spend time with each other is not just the passage of time.

But moments in time will pass.
Had we not met before when we did,
I swear the skies would have fallen
To end the world before its time.

And now, I find myself at a loss.
What now can I say in your praise,
Your tresses are not clouds bearing thunder,
Nor does your smile light up rooms in its brilliance.

Your lips are not borne of roses,
And your eyes
Your eyes
They are no metaphor to me.

You are the truth
And nothing but, the most beautiful one of my life.
What I am in love with, if I may,
Is the good inside you.

The bravery, the honesty, the conviction,
And your feminist ideals
It almost feels as if I am invisible
To the rest of the world, and the world to me.

Time plays tricks when I am with you -
It skips along with your hand in mine
And slows to stillness
When you look me in the eyes with that smile of yours.

I see everything in slow motion
I cannot in my whole life understand why you should love me.
Sometimes, I stare into mirrors
Hoping to see in them, what you see in me.

Photo by Igor Érico on Unsplash

Sometimes I grasp my own hand,
Just to know what you feel like when you don’t let it go.
And sometimes, sometimes I embrace myself
And yet, I feel nothing.

I know not when I will learn to not hate my own self,
But I do know that my deepest wish
Is for you to never stop loving me.
And I know not how to end this poem.

For it is about us — and we are eternal
So I must leave it as it is — without an end
Unlike our love that shall forever remain


I am walking towards you

Always ….

© Heathen

A Pre Final Year Student at NITT with interest in Machine Learning and many other hobbies...

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