Our joy has sundered

The journey was a floret

Hand in hand, we shrugged the odds,

Traversed the patchy paths

Shredded shrubs,

Eddied in thorns

And trekked stormy barchans

The frost slivered us

While we, often bathed in a sag of redolence.


But today, it’s time to book the end of our road

There is a berg everywhere

And am breathless to climb this floe

I can’t hold on anymore

Even though you’re inclining your pivot.

Am sorry that we are at the end of the pale

With no murk, no mud to hold.

Today, I offer a truce

For a heart without a spark can’t be roused.


I know you do phantom an endless liaison

But there is no endless greenness

The once-beautiful trees ought to shed their inept flowers

And our love, is thin.

I am arid,


But remember that a flower transits different lives;

The mean bracts render it another life

So is ours

Our life is never hollow,

We are only immersed into a transition

So it’s time to rest

End the sorrows my dear

And embrace the reconstruction