that day you called me your home
only not to care to return abode
we talked of signs
how soulmates are
not found but made
how fate is not something
which is destined to be
rather it lies in our choices
when we talked of sense
we lost our mind
so called it philosophy of life
drunken on midnight romance
you were the soundhole
in our guitar below my strings
whenever i played the notes
calling you my muse
you proved me wrong
as my picks kept falling
in your hollow space
and you kept forgetting
what lyric was next
so we decided to end the show
and get happily friend zoned
but here i am
humming the old chords
strumming in your thoughts
writing about our last song
whose melody sings
along the sunken rhythm of my heart
“you’re still a selenophile
but I’m no longer your moon”
.
