Oh, miserable melancholy
The deafening silence,
it’s haunting me.
Little did I know, how far you would go. The pain I’m left with is longing.
You’re wandering alone, as you wish.
Futile.
So little care of conscience.
It is not much that I asked for.
The words are left unsaid, shot like arrows in my eyes.
Tender as the solace.
Fragmented scars to hide away.
Quiescent rest.
© Amara Hope Melechi
amarahopemelechi 