The Books

15 3 0
                                    

Lying on the closed shelves,
The books are peeking through windows,
Thinking!!
It's been months that,
We both had met,
The evening that we used to spend together,
Now often, are being passed with the computers,
That's making them restless,
And they are getting habitual of sleep walks , looking at me with their wistful eyes,
The worthy things, they used to tell, and their buyers were never been dead,
Their worth is getting lost now, at my home!
The relations which they used to describe,
Have all gone scattered now,
And now, if I sit to turn their pages,
They sob,
And the meanings of many words get fallen down.

Maya's Madness Where stories live. Discover now