The Road Where You Left Me

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Our country road, a stage for a silent ballet,

Where gestures took flight through each passing day.

A tilt of your head, a soft flicker of light,

Deciphered my needs, made everything right.

My hand reaching out—for a pen or a plan—

Met yours with warmth, like only you can.


No grand declarations, no eloquent plea,

Just quiet communion for all eyes to see.

The clinking of chai cups, a symphony low,

While unspoken feelings continued to grow.

We danced without music, spoke without sound,

Built a whole world where love was unbound.


But silence betrayed me—took you away,

On that same road, you vanished one day.

Not a word, not a look, not a final goodbye,

Just your absence beneath a breaking sky.


Now, only memories—sharp as a knife—

Haunt every corner of my half-lived life.

The bench by the tree, your favorite lane,

Echoes with laughter now drowned in pain.


I wait on that path, with a heart split wide,

For a glimpse, a shadow, your step beside.

But time is cruel, and absence is loud,

I stand alone beneath sorrow’s cloud.


You were my always, my anchor, my thread,

But now, even my dreams feel cold and dead.

I reach for you in the dark of my bed,

Grasping at smoke, kissing shadows instead.


If love is a fire, then I am its ash,

The ruin that lingers long after the flash.

Still, I'd burn again, just to feel your skin—

Even knowing the ache of letting you in.


These pages I stain with a longing so deep,

I write with my blood, I sob in my sleep.

For though it destroys me, this memory sting,

You were my breath—my everything.

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