That Somebody

Somebody will find you

Sitting by the window,

Pen at hand,

Writing your secrets;

Tears in your cheeks,

Falling like the raindrops

Etching the blur

In the glass beside you,

Showing glimpses

Of the storm outside:

Trees screaming for help,

Restless winds howling,

Knocking at the window,

Begging you to let them in,

Envious of the warmth

Like moths beguiled

By the seduction

Of dancing flames

Mimicked by the way

Your hair defies gravity

Like a fiction written

By the winds

Of an electric fan

Sitting with you

Trying it’s best

To dry your tears,

To dry your ink,

Preventing you from writing

“I want to die”;

Because it doesn’t know

Someone will find you

When he finds himself

Wandering in places

He used to call home,

For all the warmth

Which touched his heart

Before he burned

With obsession

And turned to ashes

For his funeral

A week before

You sit here



Cuffing your wrists once again

Like a prisoner of love

Waiting for a ghost

To set you free

And escape with him

In afterlife.