The moon is bright, the night still young,
The heart is weary with the pains unsung.
With A sip of memories, from the cup labelled as past,
The eyes closed with sorrow reminiscing events from dawn to last:
a journey full of twists and turns ,
Life was but slow burns.
A beautiful mirage that it was,
The closer i drifted the greater havoc it did cause.
People joined the caravan only to part halfway,
Yet nothing could shake my ego , come whatever may.
Surrounded by void, there i stood dull and deserted,
Lost and worn out , The sands of time drifted .
A sip of sweet-bitter memories here i take.
Waiting tranquilly for that final kiss of the death.
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© Mohit