At a crossroad we held hands,
Promising to walk together..
On the same path with lively bushes and fragrant flowers.
He walked with me,
held me hand,
laughed with me,
Wiped my tears.
But realization dawned
with time already filled with relishing memories;
It was all an illusion.
His path was not mine,
His hands barely held mine,
His path was not the same,
It ran parallel to mine.
The gap between the paths,
full of deceits and acts,
was all but widening,
with fresh new grass.
Our fate brought us to a standstill,
the gap had grown wide and green,
so much so
that I could barely recognize him.
Its been a while now,
our paths have differed completely,
running in opposite directions,
Him on his and me on mine.
Yet I often wonder, If this could ever have worked;
If there was a way to bridge the gap;
If there was a way to go back and walk the same path together.
