Sorrow Is Her Soulmate

Everyone’s packing their bags
Last kisses, farewell blasts
Surreal candlelight,
Flickering moments,
Gone too fast.

Wake up to another morning
Crumpled bedsheets
Dead petals, empty bottles
Muffled perfume,
His smell won’t last.

She sits at a corner
Watching them pass
Giggles to echoes of laughter
A flashback of impulsive lust,
Some things are meant to be in your past.

Buses don’t stop, suburbean sun shades
She kicks at pebbles, dusty roadside cafes;
Dusk falls on a Sahara mirage
She won’t leave, she won’t give up.

Another cheap motel room,
A pint of booze to soak her covet,
Crushed paper, wrinkled pillows
She cries herself to sleep.
Sorrow is her only soulmate,
Playing violins to her unkempt desires.

  1. #1 by aftab on July 22, 2008 - 4:57 pm

    Another amazingly beautiful and evocative piece from you Diya.
    Congrats. Keep it up.

  2. #2 by Rezwan on August 19, 2008 - 10:39 pm

    I dont like poems in general but this actually reminds me of this poem by Eliot something –

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