Desolate Platform
The moment I watched the train carry you away. Chilling wind swept over me. Sweet dreams begin to die. It feels like a piece of my soul has been ripped apart. Short trips. A few days here, a week there. I stood there on that desolate platform. Drenched to the bone, both by the rain and by my tears. It feels eerily quiet. The only sound was the relentless patter of downpour that harmonized with my sorrow. Autumn leaves wither and fall. No longer a garden bathed in sunlight, since my world has turned into a desolate winter. We've said goodbye countless times before. But this time, this parting feels different. It's like an unseen force is pulling us apart, threatening to sever the delicate thread that binds us. My heart's forever scarred by the absence of your love. I trace the outline of your name in the mist with trembling fingers. Each passing moment stretches into an eternity. I closed my eyes, trying to hold onto the memory of your warm smile. But reality is harsh. How ...