I remember when we walked in the Central Park,
When nothing was lost between us,
The memories of happiness,
New boulevards stood before us
And nothing was lost,
Everything simple, tame.
Walking our paths together,
No motives, no aims
Yet, you had to lose yourself,
Lost in mist, just like that, nothing to be,
And nothing to become, you,
Bade farewell to your aura and me.
As I lost myself, and my charm in you,
I lost everything I had earned so far,
Only thing I haven’t lost is though,
You and I walking in the Central Park.
This poem of mine is a bit close to my heart. It is one of those poems that I wrote in subconsciousness. It appeared as if it wrote itself. It is because of this reason that there are different number of syllables in some lines as compared to the general pattern. It wasn’t written keeping the “rules” in mind.