In this barren garden of our love, a void,
I hold you, yet I feel the loss—our bond destroyed.
You know I love you, but the words fall flat,
When they ask why you never claim me back.
Is it my failing, or some deeper wound?
I stumble, I falter, but I’ll mend it soon.
I’ll give anything to fill this hollow space,
To feel those butterflies in their frantic race.
To love you, I need nothing, only you,
Tell me, what must I do to make it true?
To have you love me as you did before,
To bridge this chasm and find us once more.

By Utkarsh Yadav

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