The deepest black always begins as the lightest gray, Yielding a little every time nights prowls around for prey, With every changing shade, you wonder if gain is really a sacrifice, Like losing a single brick, in an already crumbling
Soft and inquiring, like the chirping of the first bird, Slowly joined by others, yet soft, as if almost never heard, That is all I can remember about your first word, There were more important things that then occurred. At
Where footsteps have never yet made sound, And yet everybody is forever on moving ground, Where hands have never yet known the meaning of touch, And yet reality is the only thing completely out of touch. Where every word has
Not long after monsoon bid its last droplet goodbye, Uninvited, unexpectedly, you happened to come by, Looking out for someone, who definitely wasn’t me, Politely reminding me, to not bother, just let you be. But time is a trickster, so
For that moment, I really believed everything fell silent, Or maybe, the engrossing moment made my ears feel absent, Because, once the spell broke, the world echoed with its sound, As if in celebration, of this fantasy that came to