FEELING YOUR PAINFUL DEPARTURE As I journy back home today All alone like the only survivor of a civil war, Painfully I remember in reverie how I held your hand When we crossed the dreaded bridge over the river. The journey seemed shorter. And the narrow bridge wider Because of your cozy company. Though hurdles were many. We fell, fought and won together firmly on our feet Breaking the limp limbs of the beligerent beasts Who came to break the golden pots of our dreams Until the brief respite we had at the streams Our golden pots bore much resemblance Like identical twins from the same ovum. Their outside had got a common colour. Only on the inside lied the little difference. Your pain was always mine And my gain was always yours Wed wake up together to dream together We were never mere friends but brothers Quickly our journey dragged on through the wilderness Still falling and rising learning the rules like in Chess. You taught me perseverance and your good sense of humour Drew many people to you; youd always give them more and more Along the way, the little difference in the golden pots Caused our path to part and we departed with our different lots. In a blue moon, our parted paths would make confluences And then after sharing our wins and defeats make new divergences. ..................................................... .................................................. .................................................. To be continued By: STOL-D-GREAT
Posted on: Mon, 01 Dec 2014 07:09:48 +0000
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