In the melancholy of greys,
Some scars broken from pricking pines,
Lies framed in timelines,

As the frost of bitten snow marks, it's featured on edges of hearts,
Sometimes makes void of blues, mood swings longing to touch gaiety, but they unfold me sand shores of yore,

They scatter the sanity of minds like the invisible feel of winds and am fallen like an autumn dried leaf laying in the dust blown to the direction of the unknown gusts,

Pledging from the mind games a hope ripples change to new directions,
Faults in...