Two hearts that fell for each other. Two hearts that worshipped each other. Two hearts that wrote poetry for the other. Two hearts that were once madly in love. Two hearts, now who are just familiar strangers acting like they don't know each other. While they bleed secretly...
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Days later. I came to realise that it was just another of those short lived love story that I had encountered. Like those many that I had in my past. Was I sad? I was. Until, I realized that it isn't over. I will find love someday. That's when I will stop searching...
@pagesfromadiary-
No string attached, that is how they had agreed. Signed a silent treaty that respected their "No attachment" policy. Unaware that there hearts demanded something else. A piece each of the other's soul.
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It's time to move on, that's what you had said.
Letting go isn't so much fun, you had understood then.
Yet we need to move on...-
Isn't it worth a shot though?
For you discover the purpose
while lost in midway.-
It wasn't the heavy stone,
that had drown her,
to the bottom of the sea.
Draining the air out of her lungs.
Absorbing the toxic liquid,
Slowly, she had killed herself.
It was that shame she carried,
in her bruised body,
that had drowned her.
Was it her fault, was it?
That she was molested.
Why wouldn't the crowd
blame the cackle of hyenas?
It's always the poor doe,
who has to suffer.
Being the victim and the prey.
No wonder, she drowned herself.
No wonder, she is now dead.
-
Two years together, we lived.
We loved each other.
Made love to each other.
But, couldn't be together.
That were her last words to me.
I stood numb, not understanding
What to say and what not.
I felt a part of me die,
that day, as she left me.-
If I was your god, I would have protected you from
that demon that torments you. Has kept you captive
all these years. I would slay that monster, rip his heart
out of his chest. Redeem you off your exile but, wait.
Will I be able to kill myself?
-
The scar in her left bossom, a sharp cut, which had started to fade with the years reminded her of him. A man whom she had devoted her soul once. Only to be
recklessly thrown away like thrash. Images of him, Still clouded her memory, often keeping her awake at night.
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