2 hours ago
Some memories just haunt you and they keep coming back. The cycle repeats. And so does the pain. That increases the pain making you fall in the soil of extinction.
The tool, the picaxe makes you remember the dreadful scene. The eyes that were gazing you once, are no more. She's gone forever. Her body is pale and she has to go, no matter what your heart desires.
Her life was temporary just like the irreplaceable time we spent. But the gazing eyes, those make me think of so much that is unsaid.
My mind is fucked, I wanted that conversation to happen. What were her eyes trying to convey, that moment, that memory, doesn't haunt me but it sure troubles me enough to remember the dreadful scene.
The scene, I had to let her go, it was time. Giving her away, I never felt so helpless. Considering the nature as God, I called out the morning sun for strength to bury the beautiful memory that once gave me abundance of joy.
The mind suggested that the soul should find an healthy body to reside in. The heart still wants that conversation to happen, those gazing eyes, the relation and that soulful touch. Though it fails to surpass the dreadful scene.
Numbness that she felt, I carry it since then. The glorious morning sun haunts me today of the memory, the dreadful scene.