Passerby

Passerby 

As he passes by each day.. 
I keep hoping to see,
The guy he once was,
Before he became a mystery,
to me..

As he passes by each day... 
I keep hoping to see,
Through those guarded eyes,
The things he hold, he kept,
from me..

As he passes by each day... 
I keep hoping to see,
The love he struggled to have,
With this insensitive girl,
With me..

As he passes by each day.. 
I keep hoping to see,
The same thing, the same him,
"Why wasn't I able to see?"
"It has always been me.."

As he passes by each day.. 
I keep hoping to see,
Everything, all of him,
Of how and what it used to be,
"Who are you? Where is he?"

But as he passed by one day,
I quit hoping and struggled to move on.
'Coz it was then that i saw in his naked eyes,
His unspoken words, his final answer..
A hushed and painful oblivion..
"He's totally gone.."

_M3mEntO mOri_

Remembrance 

I can hear his muffled voice,

although I can't hear him speak.

I can see the blackness of the night,

still,l I can't see what I seek.

I can taste the suffocating bleakness,

but I can't taste these silent teardrops.

I can smell the emptiness in the air,

and lately, I can't smell more than that.

I can feel his lingering presence,

Yet, I can't feel that it'll be the last..

Midnight Sonata

Songs of Midnight  

The dormant lover... 
Stuck in the crevice, 
of his buried reflections,
and patched up memories.

Immortal nightmares… 
The ominous sounds of thunder, singing,
The flashy strikes of lightning, piercing
Through the stained windows,
Of my dark labyrinth.

The broken hourglass... 
Slipped through my wounded hands,
Shattering into a thousand pieces, 
Leaving trails of sand.

The forgotten ages... 
Stretch into a tangled odyssey,
Faintly whispering poignant secrets,
Of a wrinkled history.

The abandoned fortress... 
With crumbling walls and dusty halls, 
Left a torn, tintype photograph, 
Of an old wedding hall.

The ethereal maiden… 
Stands near an open window.
Her white flowing dress,
Outlines her frail existence,
Creating eerie, moving shadows,
Against the tattered curtains.

Lucid dreams... 
of hearing her entrancing lullabies, 
Breach the very depths of his being,
Caressing his slumbering heart, those lost eyes.

The sands of time.. 
Lead me to an old dirt path,
Near the abandoned fortress,
Of the old wedding hall and that photograph.

The awakening... 
From the immortal nightmares, a cutting reality.
Tracing the depths of my wounds,
Seeping through the faded memory.

The ethereal maiden... 
In her white flowing dress,
Was the missing piece, my other half,
Revealed by the whole photograph. 

The abandoned fortress... 
Was our old wedding hall,
Several lifetimes ago,
Which left mere apparitions,
Of my inner shadows.

And the broken hourglass...
With the scattered, timely sands,
Are the drifted days of my life,
Which slipped through my hands.
Finally, painfully, I understand...

The distant eternity... 
I shall caress again her fragile face,
Until the grains of sand leaves no trace.
Soon she shall be by my side,
Until she sings her last lullaby.