Freedom

The gentle evening wind knocks

And when I open the door, hoping it is you,

It enters, apologetic,

Spreads your fragrance all around

And quietly melts away.

 

The moon peeps from the window

Looking for you. It waits in the garden,

The whole night,

Till the early light drowns

The last hope that you might come.

 

The darkness slowly spreads around me,

Envelops me in its comforting embrace,

And your memories create a miasma

That dims all reality

And creates a wondrous new heaven.

 

The ache in my heart has grown,

To encompasses my entire being now.

I am free now. I remember nothing –

Not myself, not this world,

Not God, nor You.

 

***

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About Abhishek

I will let the blog speak for itself...or, at times, for me. View all posts by Abhishek

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