Not for ailing love

our beautiful balloon, about to burst, an endless journey meets its sudden end, forced to tango with our faults. photographs torn, glass shards scattered in the open. our roads split in two, our bridges burnt, to let our ships sail toward different seas. winter flakes fall cold, summer sun shines warm; spring rains chilled, the garden littered with autumn autumn fallen leaves. silence now echoes your shouts~ footsteps climbing the stairs, singing only in dreams. all our arguments, our fights, our joy, our love~ whisper like the silent blow of leaves in my memories. the sky now holds a single star in its vastness, the desert just a single tree in its emptiness, echoes linger in hollow canyons. but divorce shouldn't have been the cure for our ailing love, it only brought an allergy born of a rotten apple time always heals wounds, so it can restore our lost love~ especially when the winds are now calm, and the tide no longer pulls so strong, and the river finally flows in the right direction. ours is no longer a shattered mirror, locked behind a door~ our ship is no longer lost at sea.