If again, these paths were meant to meet,
Then I'll pave another way.
And
If these walls were meant to break
Hence here, I will not stay.
If your hands would shape the Universe,
Let me be without form
And if your eyes paint crystal skies
I'd dance into the storm.
Let me be without you
Let me be without hue
Your colors may not patch the wounds that time cannot undo.
For I've forgotten precious words,
and could no longer write.
For poetry would always be
your ghost in hidden sight.
Now I'll put to rest these tired strokes,
And wait for the right poetry
—one that revives all worlds unknown and words long lost in me.
So...
Let me trail off in these crossroads
with my scarred feet and empty pen.
And to you, dear one —my sweetest downfall,
Let us not meet again.