Finally, I am blind.
I have no more things to find.
At least darkness hugged me
when you left my hand naked.

Your eyes over mine,
talking about it isn't fine.
Balls of black and white
showed colors so bright.

You can see that I can't see,
but I can't even see the love sea.
The sea which united our love,
the sea which refused the wave now.

Still, I could feel and hear,
still, I could kneel and fear
the old watch's tick-tock,
our old photo turning yellow,

our letters fading ink,
our paper boats in rain sink.
The lifeless petals of your rose and my last breath between your nose.
© therosewriter67