The Last Potrait of Us

By Simran Goel

When I unveiled my truth,

You held me close, no fear, no ruth.

Burdens erased, shadows fled,

Your love claimed the words unsaid.

You cherished me like a blooming

rose,

In a garden where true affection

grows.

Not plucked, nurtured day by day,

Watered gently in love’s array.

With tender hands, you healed my

heart,

A masterpiece of care, your art.

You were my solace, my sacred place,

The weight was lifted, replaced by grace.

When insecurities faded,

I smiled brightly, like sunlight created.

Soon you changed to what / feared,

Your presence had disappeared.

I felt the rain and heard the thunder,

Wondering what led to the plunder.

I asked myself, did the spark fade?

Or has something new begun to invade?

The rose, once nurtured every day,

Now wilts alone, its hues fade away.

Yearning for warmth, a gentle embrace,

But finds itself in a desolate place.

My heart shattered, I yelled and cried

Waited long, but the flower died,

A poet picked it for its fragrance,

To ponder deep its true essence.

Examined the petals with care,

Past vows and love's sweet air.

Felt a sudden rush of energy

The butterflies of past chemistry.

A picture formed, of a happily ever after,

Two souls meant to be at the end of the

altar.

Felt only love and laughter,

But now it is a closed chapter.

In its essence, his heart did see,

A mirrored tale of destiny.

A story etched deep in his heart's locus,

Realizing it was The Last Portrait of Us.

By Simran Goel