One whithered rose decaying upon my desk,
A silent reminder of two and a half years,
Wasted because of stubborness and pride,
Love lost between hearts filled with passion.
Bitter cold reflecting a bitter heart and soul,
Chilling a core already numb from the hate,
The fire once there now forever extinguished,
At least gone now for the once I once loved.
The wind blowing outside a blank window,
Howling through a dark and moonless night,
Leaving everything and nothing beind,
Much like myself all those months ago.
That strange sense of familiarity upon returning,
Almost waiting for a call that will never come,
Disappointment mixed with a sense of loneliness,
A reminder of mistakes made and hearts broken.
The probability of a chance meeting in the future,
But will I be prepared to face the once I had loved?
Only time will tell if half a year is long enough,
To face him whose happiness was all I ever wanted.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem