The Stranger

Buried under heaps of discarded paper,

Is a mirror once a stranger in a train had given me;

When I look into it on wintry Saturdays like this,

I see all the people I could have been.

For a moment we stood together,

The stranger and I... laughing under unremitting rain;

Then with everything left unspoken we walked away,

The sound of thunder echoing in our veins.

Ruffled by the chaos of solitude;

Sometimes I walked towards the platform,

But returned home from midway every time,

Realizing everything remains a little unfinished – this is the norm.

In the end we are nothing but flecks of stardust...

Unabashed ghosts who tirelessly chase destiny,

Troubled souls under flesh-covered skeletons,

Constantly colliding with someone who's not meant to be...