Wilting Love
The love we had,
Shone as the brightest star in the night
A tree that relentlessly grew
into huge oak canopies of delight.
Not until one night
When an intruder encroached our island of affection, in the middle of the night
With a text.
"He loves you", He said
In a room left for wandering
It's paradoxical if the phrase carries similar meaning to me as it used to then.
The sun is down to set, the sand down the glass
See the heathen I've turned into
I hold onto a wilting faith
For the more nights we spend together
The more strange you become to me!
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I am humbled you found pleasure in writing back.