I feel like a soldier who marched into his own battle,
leaving behind the arms that once touched my eyes,
the charming face I never tired of watching.
How can one say goodbye to such arms?
It is the tragedy of separation.
I remember the tear in your eyes as we parted,
and I could not bear the weight of that sorrow.
I thought perhaps your eyes are still wet,
your heart still heavy with grief.
You were the first to weep for me.
How did I leave that day?
In the distance, we are separated by deserts, oceans, and valleys.
But our souls linger on — like a flower or a bird, delicate and untouchable.
I still wonder — how did I leave you,
knowing you were the one I had searched for all along?
Where can I find you again?
The valleys, the oceans, the vast desert — they rise between us,
a cruel play of fate.
Our bodies age without the tender touch of care,
like trees in the desert, withering without nurture.
The dryness seeps into my bones, unspoken,
a hollow feeling without shape, without voice.
Only a tear remains as a companion,
it reminds me of our past,
of you — somewhere, someone still exists in the world.
The memory of you fills the empty spaces,
painting the desert sky in soft hues of longing.
Perhaps the soul heals with time,
but year after year, the psychological memory becomes a part of me,
woven into my very genetic code.
…
Yet, the stories we created still tell themselves,
echoing through the silence.
Maybe love is the only companion left to walk beside me.
And now, I feel I could leave this planet —
what more do I need,
when your tears have etched my name into the earth?
