I stand by your doorsteps here
Knocking hard at the door I am.
No one answers, and
It gives a blank stare back at me.
Puzzled, I halt- turn to go back,
My legs both numb,
"Stay" - says my inner voice
And so do I.
I had to. I loved you.
Days wither, starving me for you. Me-
At your doorsteps, alone by my shadow.
Oft I stagger. Today I swoon-
Die I may tomorrow. Die, yet
Would last wish my eyes not blink
As they stare at the open door
And you beside me- huh!
That'd be but my last dream
At your doorsteps.
The revelation dawns on me.
Die, but next to impossible would
Anymore of my dreams be for you!
The trembling hands bag the dreams
And the waning feet pace back
To my place of being:
They have to. You never loved me.
Die, yet would my struggle be
Between life and death, love and pain.
No more of you will be.
Die, and would die my own life
Mine own-
Not having to pay regrets to you.
Die, but not at your doorsteps.
Pssst...: An old poem of 2008
