A husk
Of a love that once was
Where it bloomed but no more
Abandoned by monsoons
Longing for perennial rain
Waiting for November moons.

A train
Of thoughts lost in tracks
Tip-toeing on fleeting memories
Trapped in open-ended verses
Looking for a period
When this heart came to senses.

A chapter
We wrote but left incomplete
A paper town of tangent streets
Where there's no solace to find
In these desolate pages
Of stanzas that rhyme.