With You

A Poem by Keziah Roads

Not all the times love is after the sacrifice. It is the love before sacrifice.

I am in the middle of the rain
Waiting for the first trip of the train
Leaving all the things we have
All I want is to be with you in the grave

It’s been years since you go
We are then in the middle of the snow
Enjoying the beauty of the snowflakes
But a branch of a tree breaks

It was I then; but you who was hit
You hold and release me from it
It is not a love after sacrifice
It was a love before that sacrifice