Life as a neverending journey,
walking neverending miles.
Decades devoured the leftovers.
Gone with dust, the place called home,
pavements, chairs and dining room.
Yet was all really gone?
Earhtly entities divides,
only memories resides.
Laughter, warmth embraced
a feeling of belong instead.
Home in definition–
of peaceful rest,
my destination
Like every other day, she woke from the light slumber to the peek of the morning sun thru the blinds.
the reality that sleep briefly barred away,
the pain that slumber numbed, seeped in. slowly.
habitually, she paced for the fridge, reached for the milk carton.
an item of adoration in the past. but only the past.
love had faded, routine took over.
who knew that such intense passion would take away.
shredded by the blade of time.
rim on lips, sour.
the carton flew out the window, she felt like flying out too.
her glance went out of the window into the world,
her world.
void.
emptiness.
