He was here a few minutes ago,
He was with me this whole time.
But, suddenly a thunder struck,
His ghost disappeared!
He, left me bare, vulnerable.
My mitochondrial activity suffered paralysis.
I was a living dead,
I am till now.
Because it wasn’t me only who he left barren,
It wasn’t me only whose nerves still burn fire,
It wasn’t me only who is afraid of light to enter into her wounds,
It wasn’t me only who didn’t shed tears because there weren’t any left,
It wasn’t me only who wanted to hide somewhere in the darkest corner in the daylight,
It wasn’t me only who couldn’t open her eyes after he was gone,
It wasn’t me only who laid awake in her death.
She, too was there with me all the time.
She, my pulchritude, my thought, my vehemence, my vibe, my sight, my memory, my Soul.
The problem is just that I have deceased now but she still exists,
Bearing all the pain, torture
And dreariness of the dusk.
She is crestfallen for life.
Am I too?