One morning in the mountains,
The golden light felt heavy,
As though it carried all the things
I never learned to say.
The peaks stood quiet,
Watching me break in silence.
A cold wind passed,
Whispering your absence.
I traced the sunlight on the stones,
Searching for warmth that wasn’t mine.
The sky blushed pale,
Fading like forgotten hope.
I called your name softly,
Letting it dissolve into the air.
Every echo felt thinner
Than the day before.
The world moved on slowly,
But I stayed still.
The golden light dimmed,
Falling like an apology.
I wished the morning back,
Wished you back,
Wished the ache away,
But wishes are fragile things.
And mine have learned to fall.
©®Madhumita
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