My every attempt to fill
The tainted silhouette of betrayal
With the pious dabs of fidelity
Was slaughtered acrimoniously
By Winter’s inimical smiles.
I called you many times,
If only you heard me?

Ah! That sensual morning of fusion–
When I was armed with buoyancy,
Every atom of light committed suicide
On the dark open moors of disbelief.
I called you many times,
If only you heard me!

In a garden, once decked with merriness,
I counted limbs, arms, bowels and torsos,
Unable to decide– what fits who!
The colour of streams was crimson
And the withered petals smelled like crap,
I called you many times,
If only you heard me!?

Then arrived the blizzard of desolations,
When the moon and shining stars grew stoic,
I got frightened even with the hiss of breeze,
I called you many times,
If only you heard me.

I haven’t slept for a thousand years now,
The difference between night and day
Has metamorphosed into a fairy tale,
In our unfortunate rendezvous–
Which was auctioned in Autumn–
I await for the arrival of spring,
I call you all the time,
If only you hear me?!

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