Sunday, June 19, 2016


I could only sense the moving train
taking me miles away from him
I was at his arms , not in real but in dream, imagination and in my dead
Love was so deep, so brutal at the first sight
I recall even the single pores in his hand
Those hands softly adjusting his sophisticated watch
why everything was so beautiful and insane when he was around
Love was like a superstition, non-existent but still fear the lost
You pray, try to grasp it
Sadly gone too fast beyond my control
Tears were ugly, painful
though it was a need for survival
a way to breath out the brutal air in the lungs
So as time flies, wounds are healed
we move on
he is a different man, so as I'm
some scars disappear, some reappear in every monsoon

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