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.