Would we still be us?   A question asked beneath sparkling skies —   Broken words and a twisted lie.   The air moves slow, as if it knows   A quiet truth that only hearts disclose. Would we still be us?   Yes, that's true —   Only hearts are far, yet souls pursue.   But hearts are soft; they mold in shape,   Like clouds that shift with gentle grace. Would we still be us?   If every raindrop wrote our name,   In morning blues or lover’s flame,   Would flowers bloom, or wind still flow   Toward what we lost, or what’s yet to know? Would we still be us?   In storms we hide, behind our eyes;   Our voices — thunder — yet wear a disguise.   The wind knows all that we concealed,   "Wild roses grown on battlefields." Would we still be us?   If time were just the heavens’ gate,   Would jasmines wilt or twist in fate?   A thousand stars, a single sky —   We stay in silence, my heart and I. Would we still be us?   An answer found beneath starless skies—   Words were heard, a feeble try.   If names were lost to wind and hill,   Would love remain the quiet thrill?   No destiny carved, no fate fulfilled —   A story whispered,   Unwritten still.