Burn that bridge, lose that paradise.

Some bridges have to be burnt, some paradises lost.

On a beautiful morning, you may walk on the edge of the lake and go searching for the bridge;

no matter how obscured by the fog in your mind, your legs will grow eyes of their own, and you will land up in the broken bridge.

Standing on the edge where you lost your happiness, wistfully looking out at the sapphire hills calling you,

when you see a moving image walking slowly,

head bent on the other side of the river,

you run out to the image,

only to meet your own watery grave when you fall out of the bridge.

Because no matter how much you yearn for the desires calling out to you, the bridge is broken.

Only forgetting the mirage is best for you.

Burn that bridge,

so you never can climb it again in your dreams.

Burn it with kerosene, or solar, it does not matter.

The bridge is built in your heart.

Wrench it out of there, burn it with the love for a better morning

where you can once again reach the hill of another paradise, another lover. 

Soothe your bleeding heart with your own spit if you may, but you need to

Burn that bridge, lose that paradise.



Dedicated to everyone suffering from the remnants of a failed relationship.

All copyrights reserved for this poem.

Please recommend it to others if you enjoyed this poem.


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