It is not like my sorrow has ended. <br /> <br />The room did not alter <br />when he came in. Not anymore. <br />Words loosened, <br />gone are the invented <br />phrases. <br /> <br />the islands are silent now. <br />Sea at rest and <br />wind is unimposing. <br />My love is of no use <br />for him who never was. <br /> <br />not his fault. <br />My endless journey has <br />started before him. <br /> <br />Along the way, <br />he walks back to <br />his true self.<br /><br />Alice Cuenca<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/on-my-way-7/
