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Ashmita Jan 2013
A sea of white sheets lay
a night gone by without you,
pillows lie untouched
oh, the tears were not few.

Can you hear me cry?
I think not,
for would you not care
to even say a hi?

Sitting there, your shadows mock me
your sent lingers, and your eyes haunt,
you touch sends chills down my spine,
i realized, i had crossed the sanity line.

Your ruffled hair slips through my fingers,
soft with care,
and my imagination lingers
in my darkest despair.

Your lips, pink and untouched,
await my arrival,
or that's what I believed,
as I live in denial.

I found peace in you eyes,
thinking about them on me,
i died,
every time i closed mine.

For you where there, everywhere,
in my work, in my play,
and i expected a stare,
instead my eyes wonder aimlessly going astray

Tossed and turned on a bed left cold,
wet with signs of misery,
lonely with nothing but memories old
left on rewind repeatedly.

The nights were long,
my eyes, heavy with tears dried,
motionless i lay for hours without count,
forever? you lied.

The clock ticked on, as i recalled,
moments spent when the needles crossed
a particular position,
when the laughs, the silence, and the fights were left to recollection.

I lost a friend,
somewhere along in the bitterness,
was it the end?
could I be anything but hopeless?

I crawled to your side of the bed,
hoping to find you there among the vastness of memories,
it was all in my head,
you were missing, again.

you were not gone,
you persisted within, as me,
a part which would never leave,
yet, a part left incomplete.
Ashmita Jan 2013
The leaves are worn out,
With time embedded in its existence.
They glide, as they freefall,
From the towering tops off,
The guardians of the forest.
The air, crisp and cold,
Lifts them mid flight and they float away,
Yellow with the age of a year.
It was autumn, and the birds were in their glory.
Singing, whistling, enjoying,
Their chirps faintly audible,
Though their presence could not be ignored.
The roads were paved with footprints invisible,
Of people who travelled ages ago.
After which it was left to nature’s exposure.
The rays from the heavens descended,
From the gaps made courteously by the canopies,
Like beams of lights, they lit up the world below.
The branches droop with age on its heavy shoulders.
They make way for us to walk beneath them,
They invite, they lure with their beauty.
“Tread the ways no one has gone”
They ask. “Why so alone?”
The winds urge me,
They push me along,
They float by, brushing against my skin,
Sticking like needles made of ice,
They hurt, yet inspire.
The sun’s warmth was meaningless,
To this invisible power,
Gliding by with its uttermost grace,
Amongst the path set ablaze.
Through the fiery depths of heaven,
I walk, alone.

— The End —