Mayhap, it’s because the nights
get inundated with a deafening lull
that demands you to recall
the fleeting instances filled with joy–
those moments spent together,
when we were naively young
and utterly consumed
by the wondrous symbiosis of you and I.
The present world is so cold
that naught else gets to reflect
those precious memories of old;
you aren’t here with me
and nothing has meaning anymore.