Those Days

In the wee hours of the morning,

When the curtain flutters, my heart mauls.

As the rays of the sun talk to the inconsolable loneliness of my room,

After a long , weary night, I think of you, fondly!

Swash! I hear the swash of the fountain against the miry walls of bathtub,

Memories of the time spent with you, get torn into shreds.

Oh! Love, when the sun goes down and the traitor moon refuses to conquer the sky,

I return to the shack within me, to catch a sight of the memories that ebb and rise…

And all I see is, Us.