A part of her
wants him to stay, a part of her wants him to go away,
a part of her is drowned in his memories; melancholy;
Of cold frosty mornings and lush subdued evenings by the
crackling fire,
under soft yellow fairy lights, the bells tinkering in the
background;
A lazy breeze is kissing the tendrils off her face,
the charm of the evening lies in the silence; when only their
eyes did the talking;
A part of her is hushed; grieving; lying withdrawn somewhere,
big blobs of heartrending tears staring back at her;
The air is thick with the scent of pain and betrayal,
adulterated with memories on which she now wants to cast a
shadow;
If she has to dig deep and unravel her heart,
it is filled with insurmountable sadness that can be cut through
with a splinter of ice;
The heart murmurs about crushed flowers and empty dark nights,
an agonising wheel of misery and pain;
At the end, it is the closet full of memories that traps her in,
should she stay or part ways...
