From Uns and Junoo to Ahlam

Posted on Posted in Poetry

From Uns and Junoo to Ahlam

 
Desolated, he knew there was nothing left. 
Nothing left for him. 
 
He could still picture her next to him, her long hair on his shoulders while she slept with her face resting on his chest.
‌He could still picture her angelic face glistening under the lamplight, her deer like eyes, her sharp nose, the contrastingly imperfect but perfect moles under her nose.
‌He could still smell her sweet, rose Mary like perfume every time he walked past her wardrobe, still under the hope of her return.
‌But alas, she was Gone, never to come back.
She was gone the same way she had come.
 
 
 
 
 
 

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