Gift or Tragedy? 

​Texting her in the morning “Good Morning”

Texting him in the night “Good Night”

He does this everyday for she likes it,

She does this every night for he wishes her in the morning,

Slowly his love increases, 

Slowly her guilt increases, 

He notices the decrease each day,

She notices the increase each night,

He hears a voice “Show that you dont care”

She hears a voice “Show that you love him”

He fights this voice each day,

She gives in to her voice each night,

One day he decides i will do something spectacular for her, 

One night she decides i need to tell him the truth,

I will make her happy for she makes me happy,

I will tell him that i am not ready yet, give me some space,

“Meet me, I have a surprise for you”

“Even i have something to tell you”

She is taken aback by his love and work,

He is taken aback by the looks on her face,

He thinks “Maybe this illusion will finally end”

She thinks “Should I live a lie or break the illusion”

He said “I knew this illusion wont last forever. I wished it lasted forever”

She said “I hoped so too. But I cannot live a lie and let you live an illusion”

Both of them parted ways, wondering what if,

Caught in a self sustaining cycle, they thought what if I didn’t, 

He hears a song “Who’s gonna love you when I am gone, So i am gonna love you now”

Raining outside, thunder strikes at the earth and at his heart, 

In the noise of the thunderstorm and rain, a doorbell rings, 

She saw him standing there in the rain with love in his eyes,

And a song started playing on the radio

“Just say you won’t let go”

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s