Debanjan Dhar (14.6.1989 / Calcutta)
Drifter drifts back to where drifted from.
On his way he has kept score of all pages you tore.
With every page torn, the story shines bright in crystal missing links,
In the reddish gloom of black nights and deceiving rain promise.
The cannabis kisses my forehead and leaves for the night.
Perhaps, I have asked too many questions and have answered them myself.
The drifter drifts to an obscure street with shutter down walls
Yet another shallow breeze from a bottomless ocean.
However, in the end,
The only promise kept,
Was by the red of sky.
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