How does it happen?
That every time I assume myself in love
Ok, Maybe not love really
Because fate has decided I should never venture that far
I only travel the road
Yes, I’ve been witness to some of it
The colours that paint that road
That journey whose finish line is supposed to be love
A large sea at the final destination
I imagine it is a sea
Or at least some water body equally grandiose
With greenery so lush like brilliant brush strokes of an artist at the shores
A paradise it must be
For I have heard tales
Tales that have me sighing with wistfulness
While myself I walk in a loop
Never getting relief from tasting the waters at the end
A well trodden path I have traversed
So yes, I have seen some of it
The little flutter when he said my name
The beautiful agony awaiting his call
Sweet limbo of dream weaving
About hopeful forevers
Of our babies’ names
Such beautiful babies
Of growing old together
Dreams with such a glow
Only I think I only ever have a matchstick
That burns bright and quick
Snuffed out by the wind
Before the fire spreads
And so the cycle goes
