We met, we kissed, we hugged, we shared love, I called you home, your arms were my safest haven that I like to hold on to, your chest were the soil I would deeply sow myself in, our home is barren without love, without your forehead kisses, this is not a home anymore, a room with just wooden furnitures.

In the world where people break-up for lame reasons, God carried you away from me, to his place, we apart, for ever. Not all stories end alike.

Was scrolling through the drafts and found this one that I wrote for an internship program. This isn’t a story nor a poem, something in between like my usual posts.

Thank you so much for reading! ❤️


24 thoughts on “Destiny

  1. SMiLes Dear Hemalatha So Easy it is To Change
    Our Loved Ones Into Furniture From
    Breathing HeARTS

    of Warmth

    Indeed So Easy
    When All of Nature
    We Breathe is Turned into Furniture

    Until the Breath Goes Away And We Remember

    Who We Even

    Are The

    Wind Without
    Furniture mY


    Sadly Some ‘Take
    The Long Road Home’
    Shortly Before Ending Breath…

    Liked by 1 person

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