Thursday, December 11, 2014

Reminiscence

You,
Me,
Us,
ME.


The lingering sense of the past, I can still feel it,
it begun with great anecdote,  we grew with the blooming budding flowers of spring.

Like summer, our beautiful memoir grew,
As per our chronicles, we were shinning as bright as the blazing heat of the sun.

Then came fall, it rained, dripping upon the lily flowers,
things became a dissertation, our innocence was washed away.

Cold winds of Winter blew early, so did our chronicles,
along with the fond memories-

Reality came. Early.





Seasons moved on, time passed.
Forever haunting the souls, gazing into blankness.