This has been published in K2 (23/08/2009) under anonymity. Quite a bleak writing.

It was never meant to quell this way

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A shriveled and  derelict heart ceases to pump, dire lungs vexed,  dreaded and thoughts forfeit my sanity when I remember how we ended the way we should never have. The gloomy shadows of pain had now become my accomplice. The song once melodious, I now condemn as being the words of lament. The enlightening, lucid and bright sky now seems to darken and tangling my path. The blemish of love is tangible and goes deep! How am I supposed to forget what we had promised during our anticipated days? The nights warmer than the warmth of fire and days chillier than the breeze of snowflakes. The days cannot be more euphoric than having her in my arms. A chilling quiver runs through  when I recall my ruthlessness . Everything is falling apart, obscuring and leaving a loft behind as an impression of zest and remembrance. Today, I find my hands withered, ashen and comatose. My heart maimed with prejudice. How could it be a menace? my defiant mind questions in despair.

Not so long, the time during our Utopian days used to bless us beams of hopes and dreams. Now it emits tainted rays of despair and nightmares. We used to be the strength of each other, but now we are the weaknesses.

The unsullied and outstretched flowers that used to bloom and mascot my days, now afflict me with the despicable thorns of inevitable pain and anxiousness.

Profess everything that I heard of you aren't true? were the last words I spoke to her over the phone.  Silence was the only answer. I anticipated for the hands of time to turn back and reconcile the void. But my anticipation always remained anticipation.

Instinctively, I obsessed my mind with her thoughts amid the pain; I should never let her feel I shed enough tears for her. Just wishing in vain, like in fairy tales, that an angel would come from nowhere and discourse what is on my mind for her, the enc feelings for her. As the beads of glittering tears roll down my desolate cheeks, I conjectured in disdain, how had we gone wrong? Was it really meant so? Despite the interminable questions in my mind, I could elicit only the bare predicament reasons. Not like the river of any return but rather like the sun of tomorrow, I contrived my hope for her the ensuing days.

The breezes of pain have ailed me obnoxiously and I am left with no choice but to let myself sink in an abyss of pain and glum. Would she ever realize what she meant to me? Or am I only the culprit for the escapade and a target of the Cupid's arrow? Love sometimes unimaginably nauseates the mind. It gives the narcotic effect making me feel woozy and bizarre.

And for one brief shining moment, I know that life will have to go on, one way or other, with or without her. So, I free myself from her enduring thoughts and start the forlorn long walk to the road of no end, and somehow I know I will find myself again with the ardor of happiness and bliss.