As the sun set on the coast,
the wind brushed past her cheeks,
cool, moist but calming,
she dropped a flower into the sea,
the sky burnt orange.
As the flower was carried further away,
along with the tides; into the sea,
she couldn’t help the teardrop which had now settled on her cheek.
She did not know her, but she didn’t deserve to die this way,
afar and above, the red sky gave away into the dark of the night,
it rained; the heavens wept.
Some distance away,
he sat looking into the vast emptiness his life had become,
a flower in hand,
“would it ever be the same?”, he wondered,
and then she saw him and him her.