The mornings are dull and the evenings lull,
In my thoughts moments freeze and faces desiccate,and suddenly I have questions haunting me about my fate.
Why am I so lost and why do I have to doubt myself?
This question goes unanswered in the wake of midnight, I am a lost child knowing not what is wrong or right.
The buried past has come alive,
Do I still have the power to fight the tide?
I am becoming feeble, failing to see anybody by my side.
The diary notes flutter and make me recall,
Fate says, life is never what you dreamt innocent child of mine,
O friend please come and save the pal of thine.
All worldly relations seems to morph into dealings, People around you are carrying fake feelings, But you never learnt the art of sealing.
Let the time tick waiting for the best pick,
Feel the cool breeze and gaze the soothing moon, Hoping that the nick will heal very soon . . .