Have kissed me goodbye the days of promise,
Has withered what seemed to stay forever.
Was a summit what seemed all ascending
A bolt back in time, is now my prayer.
Had vowed to rain on us, the clouds,
To keep us alive, the showers glad.
But swept them away, a breeze and a storm,
And what’s left of them look ironclad.
These fingers pine for the camaraderie,
That entwined with and made them able.
The looks of the now descry them nowhere
It looks to form a funereal fable.
Dreams of calm and togetherness buried deep in memories firm;
Shall return in sleepless nights and honour me an eternal squirm.