Picking up the pen to voice out the pain in heart,
Yet pen stops,pain doesnot..
When circle of memories move,life moves..
All I do is find myself standing,facing countless fingers..
Trust is a blunder,truth is a vice..
Every moment heart aches,and coldness seeps in..
As if an old friend, waiting from countless eons..
You would never ask,who I am..
And I have forgotten who I am..
The journey of us,from me forgetting everything to me waking up,
The walk down the memory lane is a dangerous treck..
And awaits countless haunted dreams..
Waiting for the days to move,as my heart does each moment..
With words that pours in..
With heartache that continues..
Life is just a moment when pen tries to pen down the haunting pen..
Few letters to the beloved..
Nothing more,nothing less ..
