An Opus of Anguish
|A photo prompt by The Mag|
And in this desolated corner,
I am left alone with tarnished memories,
Waiting for your footprints on the dust.
A drop of hope underneath my eyes,
Watery edges of each of them,
Recalling memories, that gone too far,
Beyond my sight.
The dusty memories, silently murmurs,
Into my ears, startles me;
“It’s him”, I pretend to say.
Illusions hush me up.
Faded, dimmed whispers gush into my mind,
A symphony of sorrow,
An opus of anguish.