I wish I knew when it was anew,
That I would stand in your burial mural,
But you wouldn't stand to be during my ovation.
I thought I knew whom to call first,
But I learnt more.
For you I would have done it a thousand times over,
With the eyes which hunts you down, swore to love you a million hundred times over and over again.
Only to learn your love as the Gardens of Babylon,
Fearing to go over it when unprecedented.
Your cowardly smile fades with the sudden flick of my neck towards the direction of your gaze,
Aversion of eyes as if we went back to the day we met,
Yet with the history of all the things we never could be.
You were the maybe, I always thought to be almost.
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