Marie
@marie
04 Aug, 25
(E)
When I was sure I was helplessly in love with you,
I started hoping, wishing maybe you'd love me too.
That on what I would call the most beautiful night of my life,
You would look into my eyes and read all that I whisper to the sky,
About you, about us.
That when coincidence brings us to a dimly lit place,
You would hold my hand with desire, a moment only we would witness.
But then I wonder, when it does happen, when we are finally engulfed in passion,
Will it suddenly fade away, becoming a memory that hurts?
Or will it last, giving us an ending like in "The Notebook"?
However, does it make it less desirable if it's not forever?
Is it only meaningful to be loved if you're assured it will last?
MARIA BATENGA #PoetrySundays
I started hoping, wishing maybe you'd love me too.
That on what I would call the most beautiful night of my life,
You would look into my eyes and read all that I whisper to the sky,
About you, about us.
That when coincidence brings us to a dimly lit place,
You would hold my hand with desire, a moment only we would witness.
But then I wonder, when it does happen, when we are finally engulfed in passion,
Will it suddenly fade away, becoming a memory that hurts?
Or will it last, giving us an ending like in "The Notebook"?
However, does it make it less desirable if it's not forever?
Is it only meaningful to be loved if you're assured it will last?
MARIA BATENGA #PoetrySundays
