Broken Promises Poem by Shruti Goswami

On a rain washed night,
Piercing with all its might,
The shrill whistle of the train chugging in.
It's a deserted platform;
The lights flickering, to stay alit.
A sweet pain envelopes the air;
The whistle transporting one
Into a faraway land.
Tis but a few moments, some hurry,
And board, some descend;
Tis but a while, and the train will be gone;
Left, just as it had come.
A lonely girl, sat beside the window;
Looking out into the chilled air.
A vacant look, of one who's lost;
Or has lost, filled her pretty dark eyes.
An occasional tear escaped;
Though she fought back, with all her might.
They still disobeyed her.
Enraged her; and more tears flowed.
How on earth would she ever be able to tame such nuisance?
She would forget,
Yes, she will;
Of all the love lost; and the void would fill;
For she had come down from faraway land;
All by herself;
Such courage she never showed; and perhaps never will;
To meet the love of her life; who promised he would wait;
For her, there, then;
It would alter their fate;
No love was stronger than his; nor so ardent;
He worshipped her pretty self; and the ground that she tread.
So come my love; do not doubt;
Come and unite, unite in love.
And such were his entreaties; so moving; so pure;
And unwavering, unflickering; she was so sure;
After much contemplation; and loads of courage;
She left her hamlet; with a meagre spread.
Defying society; for twas love's call;
Was something, she surely couldn't ignore.
All these years wait, was worth it, she felt;
And now was time; to God she knelt;
For his blessings.
Twas dark, she alighted, in the faraway land;
Nervous excitement, eager anticipation.
She thought of all the sweet nothings, she would say;
And how he would embrace her, and never let her away.
She sat on the platform bench, much ahead of time;
Each second seemed to extend, into infinite hours.
Finally, when the clock struck eight; barely could she restrain;
Her exotic frame, quivering with longing; she tried in vain.
Paced up and down, glanced everywhere, the time passed by.
She glanced at the letter, the time was right.
Tired, she sat, and waited and watched;
Suddenly, time had wings; it started to fly.
Twas eleven, all but one train had gone.
The station master said; that was the last she could take.
Not a dropp of water, nor a grain of food;
Had passed though her pretty mouth since early morning;
But still she waited; until the train chugged in.
Another whistle broke her trance, the train was leaving;
She ran and board; her bossom heaving.
As the train pulled away from the sheltered place;
One last look at the platform;
Twas all she could make.