Tale of Love

I once met a traveller,
who told a tale of love.
He told me to close my eyes,
soar through cloudless skies,
and witness inked drenched sunsets.
He spoke of dreams and illusions,
love and many of confusions.
For he made me question,
that which i furvely believed.

“Is she just a vision or does she really exist
illusion of a fantasy like a ship in the mist
the truth of it all remains to be seen
for in this moment of time I can only dream.”

Then he left,
like dust in the wind.
Blown away,
yet his whispers remain.
He left me questioning,
that which i thought was destiny.


There’s a history of heartbreak,
Tucked in the creases of her eyes,
A museum of the moments,
That she’d watched just pass her by,
And each tear that escaped her,
Held the things she left unsaid,
So the words she never spoken,
Stained her damped cheeks instead.

Uthmaan Sayed