The rain pours into my tea.
Blending melancholy with each sweet sip.

I see you escaping from the mug.
Your tender skin and golden hair.
The nectar of your lips all swims away.

You meld into the gray expanse.
Your words become as sharp as a blade.
Cold and piercing, ignoring my gaze.
Your eyes no longer love mine.
Recalling the day our young love became old.
Lo and behold, this has happened before.

The previous winter season.
Sipping jasmine tea in a cozy café corner,
You had asked if I truly felt the bond.
A new relationship bloomed tenderly,
Yet in your eyes, I sensed my regret,
Knowing I had plucked the wrong flower.

And now, I waste away here.
With the abyss falling upon me.
Sipping some ice tea.

© DolorTheDaimone