Deserted Campus

Shadows stretch through the aisle, 

Now it is time for a black and white show,

Colours have retreated, 

The poet said April is the cruelest month, 

It is true for the deserted campus.

Even the last farewell party is over, 

The wind misses the tresses it fondles,

The red seeds wait for resurrection,

From the soft touch of feet,

Adorned with dainty anklets.

Summer is the sovereign at every corner, 

The summer clouds are drifting away,

The cuckoo trying to make an echo fails,

It is another season , the season of silence.