, , , , , , ,


At last the end nears.

First the icy wind, and hail

Rode the dark clouds,

Now, it is a splash of red

Across sleepy sky.


Was it all a dream?

Your hand holding mine,

Glee embracing

Your warm face.


Now no reminiscence

Of what once was

An end, oh the bareness

Nothing about the memories…



Cruel frostiness – the path you trekked

Hold no more footprints

Stillness of the pond, yet

Crazy, that face is itched upon it.

That cold night…

There was no paradise.


Words tangle this mind –

Hostage, as always

Lost in the maze of thoughts

And without warning

The ground slipped beneath.