A day comes when your presence is made pregnant by your absence. The gravity of how you existed comes into limelight. The universe is left with a hollow where you had left it.The few heart you had occupied suffer from arrhythmia. The entropy of the universe goes down. But in the heads of the close few it goes up. Is it the preferred state?
The day when bright sun hurts the eyes of those left behind. The cool breeze brings chills down their spine. The rains only camouflage the tears that roll down. Your hand is to be held only in memories. The atmosphere weighed down by the smiles turned upside down.
They see you in what you left behind. The trivial become the marks of your survival. The dirt on your shoes, the tears you brought, the joy you spread live to tease their emotions- some laughs and some tears. Is it right to let them cry till their eyes go dry?
Your perfume now is the incense and your smile a mere reflection from the glass. Any talk with you is replied by mute. The night walks you accompanied replaced by shadows. Where you should be there is a hollow. Had you seen what they see now, you wouldn’t have done what you had done.
You created a phenomenon irreversible. They wish what you had done could be undone. Had you thought even for a second, the events that you unfolded, the worlds whose shine tarnished, you would have retreated and death you would have defeated.
