Wings of Memories

I dug into the sands of time; where my carcass lays,

I saw the wooden bones intact; but saw no trace of days.

Perhaps into the abysmal blue; they adorn the tense of past;

Beaming morns or sobbing nights; all got coalesced at last.

My memories like those autumn leaves; embellish the floor.

Golden hues beam upright; beyond my mundane door.

Little soul when learned to walk; dreamt to run the earth,

No sullen clouds in pristine heart could tamper with the mirth.

Days would make me soar in pride; fluttering wings in sky;

Nights would bring down tranquil thoughts for dreams to ponder by.

Beads of memories weaved in strings created garland sets;

For my ashened soul perhaps when it seeked for fates.

Sitting alone by the shore; I saw those floating clouds;

Carrying hues of a thousand tales; they never speak aloud.

They float in hush till the day destiny pulls them down;

And as raindrops; held in flecks; they drench the mortal town. 

Into the dust my ashes breathe; once a cloud in sky;

Carrying memories as the rains; my soul had learned to fly.

Here beneath the sands of time; my carcass speaks no more;

Staring beyond the abysmal blue; I saw my final door.