A promise

Once I had made a promise to myself
Not to make you alive in my words again
Burying all the letters deep down inside
The exquisite structures that spelt your name

I’ve also tired to raze down every wall since then
Wherever there hangs a painting of you
Inside the moist remnants of my heart
And of visions that could never come true

Deliberately, I allowed time’s droplets to settle down
All over the delicate glasses around your face
That I had protected from every tumult and storm,
To obscure even the faintest dawn of your gaze

But stealthily during unseen moments I had broken
Some rickety fragments of your memories
And clasped them in between the warmth of my palms
To simmer myself during cold winter breeze

I know that by doing so I’ve betrayed my conscience
And exposed myself to the torrent of unrests
But I also know that my metaphors are meaningless
Unless emanating from the divinity of your chests

The promise that I made has been broken today
When my words have granted you life yet again
Falling onto the empty pages through my eyes
Are those beautiful letters that still spell your name