AMBUSH
You tend to forget,
their names,
their faces,
how they made you feel.
Slowly you forget,
small things that meant everything,
Those words which touched your heart,
every gesture that brought smiles.
You move on,
from those memories,
where faces become silhouettes,
where feelings remain hidden,
deep under, buried within...
I guess you pass days,
thinking time heals,
but basically, its pain thats permanent,
the scars left are real!
the rupture, the crisis, the ambush,
the slow breaking open of your heart,
that ripping feeling,
that sharp knife cutting you through,
your soul within, is your reality!
Each day you pass on,
thinking,
mourning,
wondering,
hoping,
and
guessing...
how much longer will you last,
with a broken heart!
Tanzila
