I am still waiting for that every evening,
When the sun goes down and I take nape into your breath warm.
I am still repeating those mistakes,
So you will come to explain and take me into your arms.
I am still gathering those talks,
So Whenever I will find a way, I can let you know all the story forms.
But the only pity remains in every moment,
That no prayer nor technological events,
Neither beaches nor Google locations
Neither magic nor astrological predictions.
Everything useless to
keep in touch with you.
I also put my pen on my dilapidated table,
As I know, poor god is failed to make this possible,
For them to send my single letter to you is unimaginable.
YOU ARE READING
Home At Peace
PoetryThis is just a story of a person who is eagerly missing someone, but it is way more impossible to find due to circumstance.And person presents misery with the poetry.
