I was to write ballads
For the love
That was never mine
Below the full moon
In silent nights
Claimed by jasmine scent
Kept awake by breeze
But before I could sing
Before I could ask
She left without a trace,
Leaving, without knowing,
The unsung words
The moon, a crescent
Nights stilled, scentless.
When the words
Turned relics
The ballads
Fond memories
Fetching faint smiles
The heart
Already healed
We met again
Wiser and seasoned
She had lived
Her miseries
I had mine
For the love
That was never mine
Below the full moon
In silent nights
Claimed by jasmine scent
Kept awake by breeze
But before I could sing
Before I could ask
She left without a trace,
Leaving, without knowing,
The unsung words
The moon, a crescent
Nights stilled, scentless.
When the words
Turned relics
The ballads
Fond memories
Fetching faint smiles
The heart
Already healed
We met again
Wiser and seasoned
She had lived
Her miseries
I had mine
All under one roof
If not in love
As least in grief:
A sibling never found
Children orphaned
Parents aged in grief
Hopes sunk
Love trampled
Bestiality at large
If the ballads had failed
At Least in grief
We are united.
If not in love
As least in grief:
A sibling never found
Children orphaned
Parents aged in grief
Hopes sunk
Love trampled
Bestiality at large
If the ballads had failed
At Least in grief
We are united.
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