On the night when the nightingale sang in broken
Notes, we sat at the foot of pain and heartbreaks;
Counting our woes together. We were like hens
Shielding our salvaged chicks from the hawk's fury.
I still dine with the moon, reminiscing on how you
Once let the stars colonise your pupils and they created
A trail of colourful galaxies. You used to like roses; they
Reminded you of a fairy tale kind of love you so dearly
Sought. Now you are one with the gravel and loam. I
Brought the roses today and the wind said to bury them
Next to you. I hope the roses meet you there and soothe
All your aches.