The trains pass by, people not too many
The silence reminds of the cheerful buzz..when you came
The world flashed by in black n white, it stopped for a second,
stopped for us.
A drop of orange spread through the abyss of black..
And the chhatim bloomed happy.
A night and a day to engrave an epic..
Was it true? The reality of the dream...was it real?
The bile rises when i look back now,
The tears soak me through n through,
Im still standing there, the trains pass by,
The haze solidifies and the sun doesn’t pry.
I see your shadow on the crashing waves,
Is it you? or is it me?
It merged, it mingled,
It blended till the end of time..and beyond.
It doesn't smell of the familiar chhatim any more,
It smells of blood, it smells of rust.
The rusty red flows through my veins and vitiates,
Are you listening, darling?
To the hollow footsteps of mine,
On the mud, in the woods,
Crushing the flowers you brought,
Leaving footprints of pain.
The black lightens,
with the darkening of the orange.
And here I am..stuck in limbo,
With the familiar, comfortable grey.
Grey..the one which never once failed me,
The memories, the warmth, the faith of it.
I'm living within the fort of it,till I'm found,
Hunted down....or rescued.
