Can these ties be cut?
Even in tragedy, can love overcome?
The very essence of you has taken root in me
Have you got a clue of how deep these roots go?
They’ve filled the depths of me
And can no longer be contained
Now they evade all crevices and have sprouted out of me
The flower crown upon my head are bound to bare fruits
And still the branches grow and grow.
So tell me, can these ties be severed?
Where do I begin?
You have very much become me and I, you.
At what point do I cut my self and begin to bleed?
The shroud of loneliness drapes me
Or the ripper may whiff a scent of my grief.
And still your root spreads overcoming the shroud.
We have become one, You, Me, the shroud.
Can these ties be cut?
Even acute hate has love tethered to it?
Why does your absence leave a gaping hole?
Why does it leave euphoria at the same?
Still these brush strokes cannot capture the core of my despair
You are ingrained on the pavements of my being.
All i had ever come to know has a fragment of you
There is no me without you or you, me
I have become you and you, me
My heart and head are burdened by thoughts of you
So this is where I'll leave this art
I will leave it with a touch of you
I will immortalise the path we paved
I will perpetuate the life we made
I will paint a portrait of you
To show that you are always on my mind
For you once owned me and I, you.
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