Me, not you

Thousand times I have wiped
The blood from your face,
Torn and ragged, dry and twisted
Thousand times I have healed
Dark stains of your soul
Of time and its mechanics
Thousand times I have stared
At existence of you and mine
Of what we are and have become

As I sit near you and your skin
As I sit near you and your face
To see the old sparkle, the old magic
As I sit near you with your illness
Of mind, of thousand years
As I sit near your thoughts,
In an empty glass room
Only you bring, your hands
The old line of shadows
With absent light and warmth


Thousand times I have stared
At existence of you and mine
We converse now not in words
Only through tablets, you swallow
Colours and its patterns,
Only through fear, we speak
Still enough in us and the hope

Thousands times I have started
At existence of you and mine
Thousand times I have dreamt
In reversal of time and its fate
Thousand times I have wiped,
The blood from your face
Thousand times I have prayed
It should have been me not you!