Was It Love

You told me I was the only one For you, And here I thought everything you said was Always true. Naive, I was l or too much in love Can't say, But atleast I kept my promises All the way. Now I weep, I wail, I sob, I save, Each drop that falls Coz IF you ever come back to me, I'll show my screams and calls Every empty pen, each blistered fingertip, Any frail page I wrote on, They cried in pain, with happiness, Until you were gone. Now I see around these wretched scrolls, I stand amidst 'em tall One describes your outer beauty, one real And me, an empty soul. Am I to burn, or to celebrate, These memoirs of our love? I am tired much, to sit and wait Help! Oh God, above.