Tourist in a Dream.

What if love was lost before they even spoke,
if silence was the lone language they both knew?
What if vows saw promise ere they broke
because they chased tear-rivers through and through.

Do we slay the demons we forget?
Do tulips miss the petals sunlight kissed?
Do strangers greet those they haven’t met,
or sparrows fall before their fleeting tryst?

How could I have fallen short, just as before –
before my body cast out its last breath?
How did I keep on living evermore
when treading softly on a mem’ry’s death?

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