Dark Mist

It is tried in another style

 

In the edge of darkness, I  searched for him everywhere

The search was in vain as he was found nowhere,

 

Meanwhile he was there…

“he lay down with memoirs of those

Happiness lost in this years as a  living soul

His body had fallen asleep

A sleep filled with dreams

Where those dreams of his childhood

Which were spent in the corridors of never ending rooms

Houses which clung together different people under one roof

Where their thoughts and emotions would be overheard even by little whispers

Where those my teens

Where he found no love, an angel of my life

Or he lost it amidst the realistic life

Or where those were of his manhood

Where he sought upon all the treasures of men

Where he created empires from dust

Or When his life had entered its bitter end and the end of it  all ………

As all these thoughts poured upon…”

 

I searched again and found him in that pitch of darkness

All those fringe thoughts ended

As he lay in the funeral pyre with those fires releasing my friend  from that prison

That prison which had bound him, a prison which bounds all of us

That called upon “body” which bonded with a never dying soul to make a “livin”.