Souvenir
When i heard the name,
Through the whisper of the wind.
I felt you and lost myself.
The wind is not faithful anymore,
It shook me again,
Broke the promise, of not bringing the spring.
Here i lay alone,
With the thought, thay may not real ever.
But this goes on,
I failed to leave the silence alone.
It broke, but not screamed.
This wind is making me lier.
I heard the name again,
I saw the darkness in light,
And felt the sensation in shun.
Now the drying leafs are,
Dreaming of rain, with the roots dead.
Ritesh kumar singh
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