A Million Dreams

It's been exactly seven days since I last saw him in the crooked roads, his unkept beige hair running wild in the winds, those lost eyes as if searching for forever, the cheek I touched every now and then, the lips I kissed a thousand times over, and the smile.  The smile which made my day, my night, that smile which was my sun my centre of the universe, my weakness, my love. I remember every small detail about him, his habits - how he clicked random pictures without any meaning or story and how he used to keep my photograph in his purse, how he used to call me by the nickname only he was allowed to use, how he used to squish my cheeks with his rough but caring hands, how he used to look at me as if there's no tomorrow, as if today is the last that we are meeting, and me, seeing his face for the last time. Who'd known that one day all these metaphors would take the fate in their favour and turn out to be bitter but true ? Certainly, neither of us, but that's when ou...

Here I am, standing lone not so proud but vigil, dying seventeen minutes a time yet to figure out life if it's beautiful or bowed down moribund at dusk, dreary at dawn. It's been a while since I left not some other mortal but myself has anyone seen my will to live ? but it's okay, there are more corpses like me breathing. With another revolution round the giant star of faith' n hope embedded in my name burning slow, seeking happiness in misery, finding chords at chaos, telling myself when am still sane it's not a good time to sink. but with the vigil refusing to die the head to bow, heart to cease, I'll be walking lone, maybe ? without you someday, to find reason if not the will maybe? Someday I'll be there, free. Free.