Swan Song Part Ii
(continued from part I)
And I would have said I love you
And I could have held your hand
And I could have promised all the clichès
About the moon and the stars and all the eyes can see
And I could have labored with sweat and blood
So as to weave you a life from the tapestry of your dreams
And there would have been children
And he or she would have had the intricacies of my mind
Or he or she would have had the enchantment of your smile
And I could have been there when time
Has filled our faces with engravings of its years
And I would have been there to offer flowers to the earth
When it has come to claim you
And I would have been there to witness your soul fly
I only wish I could have told you of all these.
Yet Fate is but a mischievous child
Playing the possibility as if it was a toy
The further want amidst contentment,
Whilst tied to a bondage
From which freedom is death, and death is freedom.
Punishment is a unquenchable thirst, a glass of water
Ice-cold, Unreachable at arms-length;
And we have stood before face to face.
Resigned, there is only wishing
That if reincarnation is true
By the next existence there is then
Awareness; somewhere, somehow, you are.
And with thus begin the search
Even in ends that have never been traversed
For even the slightest chance at a consummation
That was never for this lifetime.
I only wish I could have told you of all these.
If my mind is a room, its walls shall be a mural,
A collage of photographs of every single moment
Where you were;
And every angle, every corner, when gazed upon
At any second, any minute, any hour of the day
Shall be a reason for felicity.
Yet irony of ironies, if yours was a room,
Its walls shall be a mural; a collage of photographs
Of every felicitous moment where you were.
I, however, shall not be in any of those.
I was never in any of yours.
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