There aligned a million stars,
Some pale, while others too gay,
Hanging like precious pearls,
Shimmering along the milky way.
Amid the sky stood the pole star,
As merely pointed as a grain,
To route the solitary travellers,
Sometimes smothered by clouds of rain.
Pouring the tea into cup,
Bending my lips for a kiss,
Saluting the bubble erupting within,
Thus, giving me a revived bliss.
The moon climbed above the wall,
It seemed elegant like never before,
I stared like an innocent admirer,
And, I went on to adore.
A pensive mood captivated me,
Anguished by hatred of past,
Still I drew humour from ailing life,
Till I could live the last.
Some decisions are due expiating, for those memories once flourished in reality. With ravages of the brutish time, all of us have landed in colossal wreck. The fossils call violently for remaking, but interests of the stake holders have changed a lot.
Nevertheless, life goes on, shading and fading events-some in calender ahead, some in dead history.