By: Bejoy

The warmth, the smile, the eyes that gently crinkle.
The gaze, the haze, no words to mingle.
He was there and so was I,
Not visible to the sober eye.

The blues, the yellows, the shades of innocence.
The search, the trust, a whirlpool of fading sense.
We stood.we looked.
To destiny, we were hooked.

The churn, the myth, the cry from the lips.
The waves, the Sun, from afar it dips.
We sit, we wait;
And then it’s too late.

The clouds, the rain, the clearing of the facade.
The pull, the strain, the guts bleed so hard.
We reach. We touch.
At straws, we belatedly clutch.

The cold, the numb, the voices in the wind.
The stares, the walls, the faces that grinned.
We tremble. We hide.
Life passes by, on the far side.