Meloncholy...

Eyes cringe,

A strong sense of its arrival...

A Requiem set in motion...

Then angels have horns and devils don’t exist...

and How...

when i feel my breath go cold

there is a sense wondering why memories have grown old

this multifold life with multifold reasons

questions with multifold answers

strange equivalence surrounding

and entrapped visions

how lessons were learnt to forget

Where is tomorrow hiding?

Where would I be the day after?