Whispers in the wind about the bullets gifted to my valentine
Etched in the memories a lost child believing in the divine
Hearsay; they state you stay home; sit alone by yourself all day.
But I see beyond the eyes; I see the soul.
A wish to save the part of you that will save the whole.
Childhood; isn’t that what we all are? Living each day to go back to the start.
A day to reminisce the grounds where we played; hoping that somehow we get to stay
Till the memories get charred; with death, demons and broken hearts.
Decaying like the society decayed; a part and yet apart.
Detachment is the only path to attachment.
A life lived beyond self; a life to serve and help.
That is the only answer he finds; in his past and present self.
A journey for the kingdom lost; a journey for the kingdom unclaimed.
I see you and I see me: finally; equal and same.
Himanshu Chakravarty Sharma / मंच 