CRIMSON NIGHT

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 It was a crimson night then, taking its most gory form
Deja vu- I have lived this time and again,
The colour of her lips holding some lilac ,
Calming as the winds maybe, it stirs some hope...
Hoping to see her again on a windy crimson night.     
I wake up all alone living it again,
The vows of breathing for her even when she is drowning,                                     
Letting go comes at a cost, calling forever not mine.
I make up a story in my head. A make belief to be true.
I hold her hand,
I see a stain on her cheek,
Its crimson, yet so pale 
Her eyes sparkling, yet so blue
Her body reaching out to me, yet so stiff.
.
.
.
It was a crimson night THEN...
Long ago back then...





Follow  me on instagram    @_berry_bucket_

Location: Kolkata, West Bengal, India

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