• pawani_t 23w


    It felt as though the hands of clock,
    Sunk through the nub of time,
    To take me back to the place,
    Where it all started.

    The place where I found the stream of saudade,
    Engulfing my consciousness.

    The place where remained a dilute version of myself,
    Who believed in the probity of kindness,
    Who believed in the element of happiness,
    By pouring my heart out.

    Walking down these memory lanes,
    Discovered a frail version of myself,
    Buried deep within the fossil of time,
    Which no longer will see the light of present.