Sitting near the flowing water,
I wondered who lost and who won.
How did we come so far and so close,
and yet how could this become.
Was it he who loved me less,
or was it me who loved myself more?
Was it to do with his fears and insecurities,
or was it the ego in me which was not sure?
Sitting near the flowing water,
I remembered his words.
For he felt we were two different people,
our paths could never converge.
Was I too strong to let go of him,
or too weak to bear it now?
Was the road to take actually difficult,
or was fickle our vow?
Sitting near the flowing water,
I thought of what could have been.
Of words unspoken, of feelings unexpressed,
Of ifs and buts and the life unseen.
Disha's Writings 