i feel the essence of the dusk winds
touching my pale face
when i yearn about
the places we slayed.
i lean against the wall
and stare at the trembling frames
having images of a person
who has turned out to be
more of a stranger than
any acquaintance to me.
i try to recollect
memories of some midnight's chimes
when he sang lullabies
and i smiled in rhymes.
and now, as the dawn leaps on me
i wear oblivion
like my most essential attire
to make me forget some
unnecessary times of the dark,
when love felt
not as pure as it meant to be
and looked like
falsely pure as it wasn't meant to be.
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