Modern Romanticism

It had been wished for,
taking the deep dive
into what matters more
than to just survive.

But we ended there,
at a place, held between
a breath and its relief,
a stone and a feather.

Nothing had subdued
our pain, when our gain
was to keep onwards
more of our nature,
over what we nurtured.

Life is an effort,
while love is a gift
that kept us giving
until we were depriving
our aching hearts
from even surviving.

A single kiss
after uttering
a single word,
will compel us
to turn around.

At that moment,
we'll see where we
wish we had stayed,
before we arrived
at nowhere.