To the songs we forgot to sing, to the conversations we could not make…

Some flowers should have never blossomed,
The memory of their fragrance makes your heart bleed.                                     

They smile in the broad daylight ,                                                                             

Making your spirit to rise,     

 These flowers of sunshine,

 Fading away in dusk. 

  Drooping and closing   

 Turning away from you.

But they are not to be blamed,

Its the way they’re designed,

Maybe Its the problem of time ,


Its the problem of dusk.

You are that flower of sunlight ,                                                             

Your departure is like dusk, 


The sun has set, but there is an illusion of its existence. 

 The fragrance and the daylight continue to haunt you,

A period of gloom and uncertainity.                                                          

The time when all wars end , 

The time when all conversation end,

You prepare yourself for the ending.

Dusk, the time when you leave.

The anticipation of darkness becomes worse than darkness itself. 

What was the day’s brightness worth when it had to transition through dusk.

So its better to live in darkness, 

Better to live in oblivion than to experience joys which were so short lived 

 Better than experiencing joys which were never yours.

Some flowers should have never blossomed, 

  The memory of their fragrance makes your heartbleed. 

Poovar, Kerala, India

~ Aishwarya_ thesailor

                                                                          

                  

 

                                                                                                                        

   

                   

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