This dark night is imbibed with a strange stillness…
And I stand here, gazing at the lights far off..
Far off that I can’t reach
Far off, that they all look alike,
Look alike, from the place where I stand...
Be it the lights on a desolate highway
Be it the lights in a crowded night club
Be it the lights of a posh flat
Be it the lights of a shantytown house
Far off, that they all look alike,
Look alike, from the place where I stand...
But each having a different story to tell…
A story that I don’t know,
But a story that I can imagine …
The story of
a truck driver on a desolate highway,
Moving on all alone in the dark night
Just to have a morning…
A morning that may start with
a smile on his daughter’s face…
The story of
a young man sitting all drunk,
in the night club,
trying to solace himself
Of the betrayal he got…
The story of
a deceived bride in a posh flat,
With tears rolling down her eyes…
The eyes that deserved dreams,
Dreams of a new life,
but all shattered,
after her groom’s devil face comes alive…
The story of
A couple in a shantytown house
being terrorized by the
Thoughts of the next morning
When they have to
Deposit their son’s school fee
but not having courage to tell him
that his father has lost it all ...
Each having a different story to tell...
Each one becoming denser
as the darkness of this night grows...
Each one becoming denser
as the darkness of this night grows...
But far off I stand that
They all look alike…
Were you thinking what I think you were thinking while writing this?
ReplyDeletewat do u think that i was thainking??btw i write preety vicariously...:P
ReplyDelete