She lay by his side,
On his lap, facing the ocean.
As he drew silhouettes of her,
on the wet sands.
But every time,
A wave would come & wash it away,
As if signaling something.
But he would draw it again,
With maddening love.
As the first time,
If it was up to him,
He'd draw it a million times over.
He could not see her face,
As it faced the ocean.
She had tears in her eyes.
For she could see,
What the waves meant,
As if her eyes were a mirror,
And the waves merely a reflection,
Of the tears within the eyes,
She knew, there was no forever.
And she was right,
For now, he is alone here.
On the same shores,
But the waves have become,
More wild, more violent,
As if screaming of pain.
Not because she left,
But because he never drew anymore.
