“Love Loss”


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in the loneliest hour
between midnight and dawn,
the reality, of you and me,
comes hurtling back at me.
this new me cannot forget,
what the old me had,
when she was blessed.
the memory of a love that had to go
because you and i–
we both had things to do.
yet, the saddest part of that memory
is the unfinished truth of you and me.
we had a love so rare–
two bodies with one soul to share.
finding you meant finding me.
where you were, i was also there.
people noticed, they stopped and stared.
nothing deterred us, we didn’t care.
they say the loneliest hour tells us
of truths we ought to believe.
the truth of our love
has yet to be retrieved.
if regret means a need,
to give fate another glance;
then this persistent remembrance
is evidence that we must
give ourselves another chance.
at this time, you aren’t with me.
you’re thousands of miles away.
although maybe–just maybe,
our love is still a written destiny.
come home to me.

–Diwa

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