As those moon drops keep on dripping down,
And I have put the last splinter piece in the fire,
I keep on turning the pages of diary i found..
In this cold desert night where moon is a liar.

As the chill runs through the veins,
And you hear the trains whistling in the desert.
Your ears are numb with thundering airplanes.
But all you see is a golden sheet of dirt.

But you get up; calling all the hurt to be thy flesh.
This porcelain sky is looking at you.
As you wriggle, wincing for the wounds fresh.
You see a faint shimmer ahead, a whiter hue.

We all are lost somewhere in the sands of time.
we all are buried somewhere in these rhymes…

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