The morning.

The morning comes and brings the chill into the dawn.
The morning comes and the unsettling truth still lingers on.
The morning comes and the past is still the same.
The morning comes and the morning goes, with no change.
 
The season's change, but the feelings remain.
 
Like a ghost that haunts.
Like a record on continuous play.
 
This love just taunts.
And it hurts more each day.
 
 The pain from the years gone by cannot compete with the unspoken love that was felt.
The pain and the hardships made the good times stronger and made the heart melt.
 
The morning comes and transitions into the day.
The morning comes and brings no words to say.
The morning comes and doesn't erase the tears.
The morning comes and the morning goes, and I still don't have you here.

Original Photography by Adnan Mahmud