The dust in the hourglass falls down rhythmically,
While you and I negotiate on this slow-moving life,
Like the ancient master of absurdity had once wrote,
None comes, none goes, nothing happens- uneventful.
You and I have reached a point where we need to part,
You have miles to go to reach your true destination,
While I decide to stay behind hiding my hurt heart,
Nursing the wounds with a half-woven dream in words.
You and I lived together in a make-believe world,
You with your ready-made ideas of time-travelling,
While I went on weaving dreams of having a family,
All centred around your strong arms around mine.
For there is no going back, this absurd heart knows
For some solids shed no tears, those who sublimate.
