By Akash
Date: 10 January 2001
Hope never dies...
All I can do is smoke cigarettes, blow the smoke in the air,
I have no control over the smoke,
It circles in the air, disintegrates and forms a different pattern,
Finally joins hand with the smokiness of the room,
The ash falls on the floor with pin drop silence,
And the wind blows it away to unknown destinations,
The ice cubes in the drink glass grows smaller and finally vanishes,
The big handle on the grandfather clock ticks away,
Encouraging the small handle to tick once in a while,
Sleep overtakes tiredness and the next morning I wonder,
Who or what provokes me to wait for someone any longer,
Days and nights with no hope and desire to gather the broken pieces of my heart.
Back to the Heart-on-Sleeve Corner