Melancholic memories.

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The sunset feels like a brook of wine, and I’m sitting on the rooftop watching the memories come back to me from the sangria skyline. Memories are appetizing feast, best appreciated when alone. I remember the moments we had under the muted street light, the stories we confabulated that we found little credence amid disparate pieces of forlorn incidents. How you displayed phenomenal sangfroid when I was panicking during those sufferings.

And now the purple dusk of twilight hours, steal those feelings across the meadows of my heart. See, how the little stars are ascending high up in the unlit sky always evoking that we’re far apart. You rove down the lane of this abjected heart leaving me a song that will never fade, your love is only a stardust of yesterday.

At times in the hours of darkness I wonder how I spend these lonely nights, the melodies of every special moment haunts my reverie, and now once again in pure fantasy I’m with you, each kiss a motivation of further evolving fondness, but now my solace is in the stardust of your memory.

/Because rich evocation has some anecdotes/

©Siddiqua_

4 COMMENTS

  1. There is a very thin line between solitude and loneliness, I hope we draw that line. This is a magical piece. 🌻

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