You take your jacket and begin to take a slow walk,
And the hands of clock freeze in the eternal winter,
That has begun with the passage of our day, slowly fading,
Into the darkness of a gloomy night’s heat that’ll burn the garden,
As your frail time, moves a strong you into your bright doom,
I finally look up, and close my eyes; is it the end?
Like the tyrant ruler, this moment makes me a slave,
To the memories that re-live, like a flash back,
As the guards chain me in this mirage of paradise,
All I see is the long black strands of silk that move,
Like the curtains that have fallen on my helpless fate,
My heart murmurs through your deafening silence; will you leave?
PS: Republishing an old poem of mine.