Of all battles and conflicts; the one against myself,
Ends in maximum destruction and endless futility.
When the intellect wages a war
Against the foolish heart,
I win yet I lose all that is mine.
The whole Universe is pitted against me.
My bed- my cocoon of several nights,
Is also whispering of all the silent times,
When we united and it witnessed.
Each time I close my eyes to sleep,
Your face appears adorned with your smile,
And a voice speaks out piercing words:
“I lost you, I lost you…
You are not mine anymore.”
Then why is this earth still rotating?
Why is the day breaking?
And even if it is why am I still here?
All of me is spent; there is nothing left to move on with.
And all that was us lies shriveled
Like the remains of the rose you gave
Pressed between the pages of a book.