Baskadia

Strains of worry

Strains of melancholy

Traces of sorry

I can’t be there

Strains in which

Nobody won

& everything else,

Came undone

Lines which hinted

Forevermore.

However none to kingdom

I used to be yours

Strains that etched

In my mind within my own,

Whilst I used to be misplaced

With out a way

I held those strains

To my chest

Praying for us

To appear next,

Lines became a door

As you unnoticed

All the love

That I forswore.