A spark or stumble, one doesn’t know

The thread of fate that brought us here

Midnight troubles hidden beneath

That’s when I saw, your blue lit eyes 

You were a different breed—a frightful one

Teaching me things that one didn’t need

Fairy tales and myths were your home

And with you, they became mine too.

Flowers were a fascinating hobby

The unseen were our hidden treasures

Hyacinths were your favourites while,

Gardenias were my secret abode

Death is quoted as ‘grieving love’

Pathetic explaination to an extreme

It’s not just the dead that walk to the grave

The living follow behind, trickling after.

The hollowness of the shaft

The needle moving against time

How do you fill the empty place?

The one which was left behind

Years and ages might have passed

The departed forgotten by the new ones

The Hyacinth flowers are my home

I wonder if Gardenias are now yours.