The veil which left before being withered.
The hopes which crept from paths tough to be adhered.
The dungarees of the farmers which lingered around in mud with a little feel of being called shabby.Now wore crisp tees like coffins around the neck.
Days being shallower by throwing fake smiles as though giving condolences from afar instead of greeting "Good mornings!" before a byee..
Knowingly or unknowingly
Willingly or Unwillingly..
It was all falling away ..before their thoughts let them wail away.
There were more starry eyes in the day then what the night brought in.
Bounds of talents rose like Sunshine after the dawn sank in.
Dwelled in a universe arranged of wires than with strings of love.
We waited for hope to paint new canvases of Dove.
-- Aishwarya Agnihotri
There*
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