A Departure

Far far away with bricks and sand

On a small lovely piece of land,

No towers around

Few lands bound,

Laid a small beautiful house with wooden doors

Stone walls, with few locks, of course.

In the corner of that house small

Where the witness were echos all,

Towards the right

With bright sunlight,

Was her room with wooden bars

Old structures and painted walls,

On a more or less rich site

However, strong and bright.

An old and well designed bed

With a table crimson red,

Natures coloured curtains

On their usual turns,

Added to its grandeur

For that she was quite sure.

The room was her friend and pride

Facing sun, it was on the main road side.

The days of cradle, youth and play

All at once scattered lay,

Tricky fights,

Waking thoughts,

Days of weaker energy days of bravery,

Tricky shouts and proud policy,

In the room of that small

In sweet privacy, she had spent all.

Whenever tired, on the breast of her bed

When she would lay her head,

Soon tensions would fly

Like a bird in the sky,

Peace would hug her

Sleep would pat her,

The gentle breezes would blow

This way nights would pass, slow and slow.

The tired mind and the tired body

Would slowly count their victory.

Ah! Now

The room will be away

A fashioned room in a princely way,

The silk curtain’s fall

Bed shaped like a ball,

They say would be her pride

For she would be their first bride..

But now, where to discuss that madness

That goodness and that badness,

Those dark nights

With nature’s flashing lights,

The happiness of silly pleasures

Which were her dear treasures,

And her heaven in the true real sense

Everyone would accept, without pretense.

Those days of love and fight

Were of course more bright.

The days approaching

Would be of rust,

Or of tight knots

And sincere trust.

Her mind, enveloped with a thick fog

And eyes full of tears.

However, past now ,is a part of fantasy

And future, full of fears……….