Next Season Poem by Surya Pratap Singh

Touch me in this moment,
And I will write for you my dear,
Carve upon me a sad dent,
And I will write for you in tears,

Happiness is and has been a fantasy,
Joy I write for you my dear,
Sadness has been my favorite ecstasy,
And I write to you all my years,

Away from age, away from death,
Your beauty is beyond and beholden,
These writing will die in the silent depth,
Of your words and phrases never spoken,

Ask for a sentence,
And I will gift you the page,
Ask for a moment silence,
And I will offer it, all my age,

You can tell me if you heart is already stolen,
And I will leave soon along with my pen,
You can tell me if you already have the oath taken,
Of marriage, of kids, or to be with someone then,

My eyes will cry and they will wait
But I will be silent,
My heart will try and it will sail,
Upon the pages with the pen violent,

I will be gone, gone for good,
Think twice before your decision,
I will be long gone into the yellow woods,
Before you start to miss me next season