In English, we say:

In English, we say:

“We became strangers.”

But in poetry, we say:

“You wear a face I used to know—

Now painted fresh in stranger’s glow.

We pass like pages never turned,

With ink still wet from love once burned.

And though your name still stirs my skin,

You left and took your soul within.”

But in poetry, we say:

“You wear a face I used to know—

Now painted fresh in stranger’s glow.

We pass like pages never turned,

With ink still wet from love once burned.

And though your name still stirs my skin,

You left and took your soul within.”

Beautiful. But it inspired a question. Does love end? If it ends, was it love at the first place? However, if love brings suffering, and issues. Became strangers might not be so bad.

#ksrpost

20-6-2025