She consumed his senses for most of the years He had known
He speaks of worldly gains to get over his pain
Every now and then He sees her mane curving softly on his face
He longs to shield her
Sing her songs of his victories
Amidst a hundred men He feels her hand
On a cold morning far and wide He sees the arch of her back clear
his sight
On harsh days He makes a pillow of her chest
Every day He tries and struggles hard but cannot see her face
They say He took the wrong turn where memories fade….
- swapna
