ओह! यह छवि हमारे सामग्री दिशानिर्देशों का पालन नहीं करती है। प्रकाशन जारी रखने के लिए, कृपया इसे हटा दें या कोई भिन्न छवि अपलोड करें।
I ran my hands through His marble headstone Replacing the withered flowers I brought from the last time With fresh ones Suddenly, something under his name Made me forgot all the stories Over my week that I'd tell him His birthday was something I'd thank God for, For the rest of my life His death day was a melancholic Chapter I'd always try to escape from I want to escape, Escape with him Like always Escape, My escape He was my escape And between those miracle and melancholy Is a small line A small line I'd always smile at A minimal brief line Bearing all of our misadventures Our greatest emprise Containing heartaches He never told anyone Because what he'd tell you Is his aphoristic words Always achingly right A dash —bearing his familiar grin His carefree laugh, And our team In this dash, I'd always see The image of the same guy With faded jeans, Dark printed shirt And worn-out converse Ironic how you could collect History and adventures And store it somewhere In this dash, Like a memory box.
