Before we drift apart

I waited for you, hoping you’d love me:
a withered leaf desiring to be pressed
between the pages of your secrets kept
but you’re forever off and never see
this heart with broken beauty that you left

I still long and perhaps you’ll know at last:
when these lines, these flames slowly fade to blue
when hours are spent and passion is grey, cold
when spirit ebbs, and in that final fast
yours will be the frail hand I’ll gently hold

© Nitin Lalit Murali (2017)

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12 Comments

        1. I do know what you mean, sometimes I lack for inspiration and wonder if I’ll ever be able to compose again. Then, it returns. As a Nitin follower I shall always be alerted when you write which pleases me! :)

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