I’ll kneel down

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I don’t know it’s my fault or their’s,

But tears roll down my eyes when accidentally my gaze is attracted towards our dusty dry old pictures;

The field of the magnet seems so vast that they seem to govern one of my two thoughts;

Every action of mine, every capture of their’s, every thought reminds me of them.

 

I don’t know it’s my fault or their’s,

But few words seemed to overweight the strength of a love bond;

Few actions seemed enough to shatter the bridge between the two hearts.

An unlucky day it was when the trains of our hearts separated their ways.4e427361ae9d68911c07bd7852a9314a

 

I don’t know it’s my fault or their’s,

But I can’t now bear the unwelcomed silence;

I can’t hold the weight of guilt anymore,

Guilt of me being an autist.

My eyes now seem to run from the catch of their glance,

And my soul seems desiring to hide somewhere deep inside;

As if I’m a thief.

But is it really my fault?

 

I don’t know it’s my fault or their’s,

But I always bowed, even if it was their’s,

Intentional or unintentional.

I kneeled for the sake of that love bridge,

I kneeled for their sake,

I kneeled for my sake;

I always did.

 

I don’t know it’s my fault or their’s,

But that day I didn’t bow down,

It was the first time I spoke in that relation,

And guess what!?

It seems, I ruined everything.

I should have better kept mum,

For the silence of then, would have wiped the silence of now.

 

I don’t know it’s my fault or their’s,

But I ask the lords to be just,

And take my introvertedness for a while,

Until I could build the bridge once again.

A very look at their portrait pinches my heart off,

The axe feels sharp enough,

And the ache is as that of someone digging little bits of my heart every second.

 

I don’t know it’s my fault or their’s,

But old fears surround me,

I pray to the lord of silence, to give me strength,

To kneel down once again,

For the sake of that bond.

People talk a lot, stray dogs bark a lot,

But I believe,

I’m a traveler,

They are also a traveler,

A fortunate junction will await our reunite,

For I’ll make the trains meet once again.c2265aa0ea8f031fa13b0dc31a3346c2

 

https://thebalconydoor.wordpress.com/2017/02/26/i-fear-my-fear-why-is-it-so/

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