Here I come back again,
though my walk falters
and my fingers tremble
its coming back home
I have walked the empty streets
where words are sold off the shelf
it’s the path that sheds relations
and I longed for your touch
The painting hung on the wall
cries the rivers, fires the peeling color
It sends jitters down my spine
It separates the two worlds
The walk gets tiring as I take a step
the pillars standing are by gone
the fields have gone barren
I wanted this to happen ever long
The wait is over, words dried pasted
Back on the wall, sinking the shades
of pain, agony and fear
Its like coming home!!!
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