After every word she spoke,

The moon shined bright

But the light was not its own.
Okay.

Only The angels rejoiced.

But, there are no angels.
Okay.

Are you moving in circles?

Are you leaving the scars behind? 

You’re just drifting away, 
Drifting away.

Are you dreaming?
Do you exist?

It’s a mere tale, 
A mere tale.

Are you watching yourself? 

Can you see how you’re going away? 

Far from this place,

Or maybe, 
You were never here. 

You aren’t supposed to be.

Do you realise?

Is it the right thing? 

Or do you Deserve better? 

Or worse?

Is this life?

Do you feel it? 

Still got Such a long way to go.

Are you living? 

Or Are you pretending?

Do you think about yourself? 

How things were? 

And How you were?

Is it right?

Is there a puzzle in your mind? 

Are you trying to make it a better place?

Are you trying to solve it? 

To find the right people? 

Or **** your evil half maybe?

Aren’t you caught in the middle? 

Aren’t you hoping for a miracle? 

Think. Act. Reflect.

Is it a lie? 

Or do you seek the truth within? 

Perhaps, you may Do what you feel like.
Is this life? 

Is this what you wanted it to be?

Or are you just trying to conceal things,

Something has robbed off your sanity.

You shot the albatross.

Knowingly or unknowingly,

Remained a mystery forever.

Now it’s coming back to you,

Your crossbow is stained with blood.

You hereby try to unravel the mystery.
Should the sinner be accused of it?

Or is killing just a way of life.

Lingering in the past,
Languor movement.
Desire.

Seeking sempiternal happiness,
Unconsciously aware of all the lies.
Ignorant.

Here Madame,
your harbinger is here.
It’s all going to be good.

Halcyon days of youth,
Denouement.

The corpse lied untouched,

In the crepuscular light, 

her shadow enkindled. 

Her kins stood panic-stricken. 

Her fidelity was being questioned. 

It was time now for the sun to set. 

The birds were finding there way.

Migrating

Also,suffering. 

And the darkness was about descend like everyday 

The shadows seemed to be taking over the grimaced faces 

But she however, 

Was trying to resurrect her soul.

This was the epitome of her infatuation. 

But she had always been an Ailurophile,
Always.