Tale Of Times.

By Tejaswi D Shetty

The dreary wind weighs the despair,

that is jostled into this cottage.

the windows are tainted

with the dust of longing.

I wonder if to clean would mean

to skim the memories.

You are another visitor - dewy-eyed,

looking for a story.

the words you bleed on the paper -

is my diary - screaming inside of me.

if i pause the river in your eyes,

the lives that live within you may not survive.

So I ask you to write,

and let you finish the tale of mine.

with an ending, I never had

because I was left behind.

By Tejaswi D Shetty