By Aavanthika Praveen
I grow older;
every hour, of every day, of every week, of every month, of every year.
No matter, how much I grow, the gap between us remains,
It lays there still;
Unmoving, Unerving.
Each time I grow older, I expect the gap between us to be bridged,
For you to freeze and stay very still;
very very still.
But alas, you move,
every time, away from me;
every time, running.
Every time I barely catch up with you,
You start to run again.
What is it that you're running from?
I am tired of running behind you.
Each and every time you return and offer me your tempting hand,
I take it, abandon everything and come running back to you.
But before I can reach your arms, you run away again.
And I am left with nothing;
alone and stranded.
I will not be left deserted again.
This time, I shall run.
I shall run as far as my limbs will carry me.
I shall run till my body defies me,
and till my skin is crawling with sweat.
Not behind you, but away from you,
I shall not stop nor wait for you,
I shall run towards hope and felicity.
Though I shall run, I'll leave behind a mark;
everywhere for you to find and,
you shall be the one running behind,
reaching out for my arms but,
only finding darkness and I shall be free.
By Aavanthika Praveen
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