TenPastTen

In the hushed vastness of invisible worlds,

where souls graze one another with the soft chill of fleeting shadows,

our love found each other in the faint, lingering scents of ancient existences—

echoes of saffron and rain-soaked earth, carried on whispers of forgotten winds.

It surged like the relentless tug of magnets, a palpable vibration humming through the air,

pulling us across eras of hazy dawns and velvet nights,

shattering veils of oblivion until we fused in this breakable moment.

But on that dawn it emerged, tragedy struck with the sharp crack of breaking ice.

The bond, once throbbing with the heat of those prior pulses,

was snuffed out before it could gasp its first breath—leaving a stillborn romance,

cold and motionless, its unspent warmth cooling like embers in a heap, a vow silenced in the throat.

Now it rests entombed and safe inside the heart’s shadowed alcoves,

cradled in the gossamer grip of memory,

where the faint pulse of old heartbeats echoes against stone walls,

protected from the world’s harsh glare and biting winds.

Yet love, that unyielding current, pulses with the promise of revival. 

It is a shield when no one is around. 

It will rouse this dormant shape with a rush of heated blood and electric sparks,

flooding it with the scent of blooming roses and the taste of sun-warmed skin,

igniting what was forsaken to unfurl in a torrent of vibrant hues and resonant life. 

Revived. 

Survived. 

Resurrected.