A Familiar Road,Two Strangers

Will we talk?

If the clouds turn dark

and the rain begins to fall?

If the day disappears

into the night?

Will we talk?

On that familiar road

where the wind whispers

and laughs?

Will we talk?

With our feet dipped

into the still water of the lake,

forgetting the way home?

Will we talk?

By the open window of a train?

Not as always,

in imagination,

but face to face.

I keep waiting,

while the days slip away.

Will we talk?

On a moonlit night,

with hand in hand,

beneath the whiteness of the moon?

Not in the faintness

of an uncertain light,

but beneath a full moon.

Or in the hide and seek

of some mischievous cloud,

at a gathering of fireflies?

Lost somewhere

far from reality?

If we meet again

on that college corridor,

beneath the veil of darkness,

and if time comes chasing us again,

will we talk?

If, in the winter rain,

I find myself standing before you again,

after seeing without looking,

after speaking without saying,

about all the words

that were left behind,

will we talk?

If this darkness never leaves,

if someday I forget myself

and the darkness makes me its own,

will you talk

with my memories?

Even if we meet someday,

on the familiar road

that we have become strangers to,

will we talk?

Girl,

will you ever talk to me again?

 I don't really know

whether I should have fought for my love.

Should I be happy knowing

that she is happy now,

or should I hurt myself believing

that she would have been happier with me?

What will this world call me?

A brave man,

or a coward?