Those Anklets Still Jingle

The sullen walls made

Of our coagulated desires.

Once festooned with the

Sparkle of floral ribbons.

And the divine tune of the

Tanpura, that romanced every stone.

Where your ornamented 

Innocence sounded mellifluous.

As the tides rushing to put off

The sudden embers of excitement.

Dying away in a rhythmic rendition.

They now resonate the 

Cries of those abandoned

Nocturnal souls.

Lay shackled in the

Cobwebs of haunting memories.

With occasional echoes of longing.

I still hear the bells

Dancing in the corridors.