O my love,
where do you walk towards;
leaving our love sonnet
like an incomplete chapter?

Like words and rhyme
we begin to write a serenade,
hoping the world would remember
our love forever.

We blended in our thoughts and affection,
like the warmth of sunrise
and the calmness of sunset
to pen a beautiful story.

But I failed to realize that
your words fell short of life;
the page remained blank and…
how much could a rhyme help?

Now the sonnet lacks meaning,
it seems lifeless
written with scribbled words
yet ended with a rhyme.

 

 

~~~ Amreen B. Shaikh