He’s thundering on wheels in misty mountain roads
She’s blowing magic rings in duvet delight.
Distances measured on speedometers
Turn into averted eyes, on boulevards.
Boulevards, that once saw the same eyes
Hold hands so tenderly.
The poets speak of love, the hero of faith.
She buries that love in tears.
Tears, that refuse to traverse pathways they once had.
Pain and laughter are interchanging,
Much like their crossroads
Once race tracks, now dirt roads.
She knew they were a goodbye, when she buried him.
All along the pages of a journal—
Dust lathered piles of broken promises.
His drunken laughter from across the garden,
Now stirs a stammering spark in her withering flowers.
Too many words, like too many stolen glances,
Break the rhythym she sees in the humming trees.
Treading ever so softly on crushed leaves,
That are dried, forgotten reminders of their past.
In the numbing silence that now engulfs her,
She buried him. Far and deep.
