Memoirs


Don’t know what woke me up from the depths of
A fitful sleep, a whisper or a thud
Or a blinding flash of light on the sky.
All I could recall, sitting up, alone,
While the dying hour of the cold night arrived,
I was haunted by nightmares in the sleep
And memoirs of faces that I had lost
Was raining havoc on me, relentless.

Then I heard the muted wails from the flurries
Groaning outside the thin walls of my den.
I stood up and approached the large window,
Streaked with the inaugural snow, pure white,
To press my nose upon the pane to see
The nature’s grand and spectacular show.
The flakes quite carefree were floating down
From the heaven somewhere far away.

Wish I were all drenched with them instead of
Dejection wrapped around my solitude
And wish I could touch those furry flakes,
If I still had life on my fingertips!
Soon the morning came but there was no sun,
Today the world shall remain white, it seemed.
And up above, the frozen womb whispered
To me the tales of her happier time.

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