There is a big difference
Between leaving behind cold tracks
In the snow
And lending a warm hand to lead.

Forget me my beloved we are not for each other
So it is good to depart and take our own path
It is better not to ask any question or give answer
If we are not good for love we be ready for wrath

It will be good for you to look for better option
As far as as I am concerned I will opt for seclusion
It will be good to be away with heart broken
To cover in anxiety just mountain after mountain

Time is the best healer to recover injuries ,bruises
In the chest of time we can sleep and we can relax
If all is burnt then what remains in the left ashes
If life is not straight then what down trodden tracks

Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2016 Golden Glow

My life moves like a bullet train and
I cannot anchor my heart and thoughts at your station.
Not anymore.
You no longer provide comfort, love, patience and care;
my basic needs.
I will be okay because all railways lead to something
and something is better than nothing.
I suppose my fingers should no longer outline the love and hate I hold for you.
And I suppose I have to stop writing about you now, or forever, stay stuck in this maze without you "

An hour might as well be a year,
A life, a night lacking sleep,
Something sweet but just outta reach,
Or song, one line, that one line,
With memories sweeter than ice cream,
And crescendo akin to broken mirrors.

Long gone, would be the “clickety-clack,”
The coming and going of a train;
Meaning to stop, but only to pass you by,
Offering the slightest dust, hints to where
You should have been come ‘morrow;
Left would be an only, lonely to posit –

Why can the gulls go when I can’t?

Like a car in hydroplane
Or a run away train
These thoughts of mine are off the track
Anxiety on top of anxiety stacked
There is no coming back

Every song you ever said was about me
I play on repeat
Singing along to all the words that hopefully still mean something
Titles and tracks that shuffle on a loop
Somehow constantly reminding me of you
And I can't seem to forget the words you wrote too
But what means the most
Is something only you can do
When you sing to me
And I can feel that every word is true

tracks on the airport road (by planes)
to cleaners it would be stains that cannot be rid of
to people it would be a sight of imperfection and age
but to me
it signifies a routine
of a plane that was sent off
and back again
a routine of safety
a routine that people take for granted