When the twilight`s a little young,
The tremors in the distant skyline,
As clouds fly past with stories unsung.
Beneath the nerves of my trembling legs,
Stands a strong and arrogant raise
Watching quietly all the episodes around
The darkest nights and the brightest days.
I can see lives moving apace along time
And lives, six floors deep down
With eyeballs rolling like petal drops
Just to find, there`s no one around.
Frequent whims of soothing breezes
Briskly follow the lazy afternoon tide.
Gently touching my thumping head,
They allure me towards the other side.
As the saffron of the reminiscent sky
Disappear into shadows of the dark,
It calls out for an enlightening step
Along a direction yet to be marked.
But before I could lift a foot,
Even before making a steady stand,
As if already having a foresight,
She grabs my hand...
