He sits at night and gazes at the sky. He counts the stars every night near and far. He wishes for her happiness upon all the falling stars that he sees. He remembers her so well and prays for her on bended knees. He thought he had the key to life, with happiness and success to follow. He only has the mistakes he made with lessons that leave him hollow. Like a swallow he moves from place to place, searching for a similar face, the feeling of staring into the same kind of brown eyes just like hers. He kisses a thousand women yet can't draw that emotion near. He wakes every morning and watches the people pass by from end to start. He admires every woman's beauty and knows none can steal his heart. He chalks down his thoughts on paper which rips with ease. Yet his soul stays unstable as he can't find peace to appease. He still places a plate at his table when he dines for supper. He still sips his coffee till the end as she always did for him. He knew she was his sin that lingers under his skin. Her heart right now he can never win, he watches from afar as he nurtures her child, husband and kin. Love is a cruel intention which breaks a man's pride in two. He always said it would be me and you. He walks by the park, and looks up at the sunshine, wondering if he was running in her mind. His lips bear her name with every passing day, he wakes up to reality of what he thought was a nightmare. He stands in solitude and silence fills his void. He thinks about how he let his life get played with and toyed. He always spent his festivals drowning in his sorrow. He knows his life isn't at an end. He knows tis but the beginning of his life on a bend. He closes his eyes and imagines her fingertips upon his face. Love is a gift for you must freely embrace. It may leave you broken but you can pick yourself up. Never experiencing it is a slup, so give your heart to someone and forgive them if it breaks. You'd not only get the broken pieces but beautiful memories which you and her did make. Love is never a fairy tale it's a story which is real for your sake. It's not what God writes, it is what you make.
Written and composed by
Timothy Justin Rudolph Rodricks
