Lost. I thought I was lost, and my leg seemed unapologitically stuck in frost.

It was cold and the light was flickering, my empty house was close and I couldnt hear anyone bickering.

With my toes frozen and my fingers in repulsion, a land where breathing felt like a compulsion.

And suddenly I found myself crawling in the desert’s hot sand, with my voice unheard in the heat of the scorching Arabian land.

And I found myself getting trapped in the arid, and the grains of sand sticking to my soul, horrid.

I gasped for breathe, I yelped in thirst for water, but no one was around to yell back in a sympathetic answer.

And in this heart ache, and what was bordering pain, where I felt lost, in a desert or in the land of snowy rain,

I woke up with a jerk in pain only to recognise, my brain felt heavy, it was still in unanswred fright.

Fright of what concerns my brain, of that I know not, he’s been gone for days, but my heart still feels shot.

Shot as I feel, i feel like a bird, my wings clipped together; I dont ever say a word.

And even after a month or two I don’t think my heart will learn, if someone says my name in that tune, my head will automatically turn.

My eyes will search for his, but I won’t ever find the same shade, cause our paths may never cross, there’s some decisions we’ve made.

Everytime I see someone happy, everytime I see someone smile, I think unquestionningly of him, and wonder if he thinks of I.

It all fits fine somedays, when little do i think, lost in the things that don’t matter, when all is blue and pink.

But I focus suddenly on that book I related our story to, It sat right there above the untouched, the brand new ones too.

It’s the book with the magical ending, the one we shall never have, cause one of us reached the ending, before the other had.

And closed now as that book remains, undisturbed on the rack, tears in my eyes told me, I may never reopen it or ever go back.

Back to the pages where him and I first met, back to those evenings when we watched the sun set.

And as I let my book rest there on my desk and looked at the setting red sun, my heart ones again wandered in disappointment to my One.

There’s still so many things to say, and so many things for him to hear, I realise the story is mine and it too shall not have any end in near.