The Road
When he's not beside me,
the road is empty at 2am.
When he doesn't talk,
it's traffic — horns and brakes.
When he speaks,
it's a traffic-free road.
When he smiles,
it's smooth, no obstacles.
But I don't care where the road goes.
I hope it leads to him —
wherever he loves to go.
Himalaya.
Volcano.
A place full of obstacles.
Beside him,
being a shield to him —
that is enough.
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