Lying between the folds,
of the pale-colored pages of the diary,
the dried rose flower,
Standing as a testimony,
of the promises that were,
made believing the dream,
that we together envisioned,
of holding onto each other,
against adversities of the whole world,
looking into my eyes, as if gazing through
my soul, touching my weakest chord.
The scent still lingers on,
for my innocent heart still longs,
those arms resembling the safe heaven,
dreams shattered as you left me all shaken.
NB: The poem is written for the Pratilipi Poetry marathon and is inspired by nature!