N1

12 years passed like one of those winter afternoons,
that we used to waste on the street.

12 years passed under a cloud,
one that dared to defy our midsummer dream.

12 years got buried under your smile,
your voice got trapped beneath everything that left you,
the echo started.

12 years left one thing in mind,
Vivid and vibrant, it remains,
a part of me until I see you again.

Just like the white berries that would fall on our favorite bench,
a winter wind took you further than I could ever see.

The season wasn't right.
The season had other plans.

S2 - II

The melody that her lips don't whisper,
The memory that her eyes refrain to enter,
The feelings that everything forbid,
Though they only exist inside my head,
The visions that I keep myself from seeing,
What might be, but I won't be believing,

.:.

These are just a few things that people die from,
They make of an uneasy life, to turn your thoughts around.

Nostalgia II

A childish wish for snow, I remember.
A walk under it, I recall.
A night filled with white promises, I seek.
A sleepless night beside the fire, I need.
A winter morning with its chilling wind, I feel.
A mountain calling and recalling, I hear.

A will, to set them free, I've lost.
A longing, to retake what was once mine, I've lost.
The requiem, what I wish to lose.

S2 - I

Knowing, perhaps is the greatest burden. Knowing it all or knowing almost not enough, hardly matters. Disengagement is not a choice since forgetting is not in our control. Knowing her only shoal and brief, meaning shouldn't be assigned. But her words leave me no choice, penetrating haphazard looks with no horizon in her eyes leave me tangled in my own absurd web. To know, is to enter an everlasting maze. After all, nothing is ever over.

Paul Simon I

We come in the age’s most uncertain hour And sing an American tune.

On life II

Choosing the meaningless over the meaningful is at the hearth of every decision.