As The Clock Strikes Three...

The darkness of the night

Transcends onto my eyelids...

Kissing my tears,

Little by little.

As the summer zephyr carries the lullabies of the distant stars

Into the loneliness of my bedroom

My exhausted soul drowns into the unknown depths of forgotten dreams

That shimmer like fireflies,

Far away......near the horizon.....

Melting slowly into the pristine moonlight.

I sigh, as the monotonous ticking of the wall clock remind me,

That I am already running late, chasing them

And a myriad of thoughts fill my heavy mind

That reeks of nostalgia...

The old smell of ink stains and cotton candies

Of dried roses and burnt pages...

Of the days, that 'could have' been different,

The people, who 'could have' stayed..

The things, that 'could have' gone right.

Those millions of 'what if's sting my soul

And I lay awake, staring through the open window

Far away into the horizons....

From where, there is no return.

Where, those colours have vanished to conceive this black.

Where, this black dissolves again, to give birth to a new dawn.

I lay awake, staring through the open window

As the darkness slowly takes over me

Seeping little by little through my cracks and crevices,

Caressing my wounds, like a mother would do...

Cruising through my veins, like a lover's touch

That takes away all the worries of the world...

Silently embracing me into her bosom,

Enticing me into her world of slumber.

And like a hypnotised child, I follow her,

As the clock strikes three...