I amble through the alleys, deserted and desolated, I don't discover the drop of dependence anywhere. Vanishing vigour, fading fantasies, some shimmers at the edges of those sulken silhouettes of the past , nothing else, I gather.
All void and vacant and at the end of the day, I reach a spot, vibrant in colour, a junction where some stop in vain , some in rising fervour.
Red is it's colour, it holds a million hearts , some soaked in love and pain, some in sea of waitings while some in reinvention, and this unique station is called Mirakee, where all hopes meet in unison.
I too ooze out my pain here and store my fond feelings for you in my favourite poetries , If ever you come here , ask my friends, they'll tell you my tales of days and nights in pain and how I loved you with all the aches and sores , how I fell and how I rose, to love you more, with posts and reposts. Haiku, I wrote, I wrote Senryu, whenever my nerves throbbed, I came here and wept to wake my love again like the fresh mountain dew .
Read them , someday, when you love me again, don't read in hatred or in vain, just weave my words with your winsome smile in your silken threads. Preserve them under your pillow and paint them in perfect Sunshine yellow, with hues of crimson and red.