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Cellar

By Gene Santos

it's not the flickering light
it's not the filled wine glass
not even the picture of you

left lying in the dark,ignoring the time and dust that consumes them...

unfinished letters
almost burnt papers
with fading scribbles

a pen with a dried ink and its stained tip...

that made me break the lock and enter the canvas of what was...

trying to find a sanctuary from a broken past
from the ever repeating history,recycling one's life
i tried to find hapiness from the pain
impossible,but trying to make it in a way that's possibly...

maybe it's the old clock
pointing the time you left me
last hi,last goodbye

pendulum in a stand still,it tried to freeze time for you not to go...

roses wilted colored dead crimson
the staled water on the vase
once holding the beauty of red

that made me walk in the atmosphere bleeding for us,that ended so fast...

trying to find you from the room filled with pain and dust
and your aged spirit that i pressumed preserved eternal
in the bottled wine where we shared life and the bliss of it
trying to find,making you appear form the liquid memoir...

i know you're here...repaint my sorrowed sky...

i know you're here...complete this unfinished smile...

i know...because i can feel were still entwined...

the half of me you left with...

if you can't stay...please bring it back...

let me live...

live again...

start my time that stopped when you disappeared...

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