The game (poem) (reposted)

I was wrong everytime to think about you.

I was wrong to tell the gleeful tales,

to burden you by the laughter we shared,

,to tell “it’s wrong, it’s not the way”.

And I was wrong in every sense.

.

.

.

The flight we took never escaped.

Remained unfueled for ages.

The moment we shared wasn’t true

It was all viciously fake.

Among our humdrum affairs that cooed in the echo of nowhere,

The heartbreak felt was never  similar to mine.

.

.

 

 

 

 

Things seemed perfect but wasn’t fine.

Time rolled fiercely ahead.

I stand down the closet.

To watch my imperialistic passion trampled by the tread of time,

The love isn’t mine, love isn’t my game.

This game is over, and made me a calumny of spurred moments.

.

.

 

The intuition tirades me to break the cacoon

The cacophony of the life, silenced by the peck of mine

I embraced the turmoil and falls,

And smiled as it gives me hard.

And lastly as I stand tattered

Flowed in my the veins array of lightening followed by thunders.

To be continued.

The game 2

©Copyright reserved !ns¡ght 2017

Aquib khan.

Images :Google.