That night was just like any other-
I poured the whiskey off the jar,
On my table was the letter of her
And perhaps, not that sober.
I can't remember what she had written,
Nor I can recall what I replied;
Perhaps, it was an important argument
And life was shattered in a single night.
This happened a few years back
And I concieve within the pain-
Till now, till this very second,
And all that's left, are grievances
And while, all you have, is this poem
As a proof, that I was always there.
Now, the world gets too large, to see you again
So I beg you to forgive me for my mistakes,
And if it's not too much for you to accept,
I could still walk you back home, in the rain...
YOU ARE READING
Transcendence
PoetryHello, there readers! For a quick introduction to my work would suit its subtitle- 'A Collection of Scattered Feelings', I have maintained no fixed mood, so that my dear readers may see beyond a specific feeling, to feel it. The moods vary form sli...
