With Open Books Lying Unread On The Table Poem by TITIKSHA SINGHAL

With open books lying unread on the table
I swayed myself on the rocking chair
With every new minute approaching this night
The past flashed in my eyes.

The old days, with green trees,
The wind blowing on all the streets,
The sun shining bright in the light sky
My happiness flew more high.

I listened to him over the shouting wind
The words came out without meanings
As we moved hand in hand
Carving our feet over the sand.

And sometimes a wave would come, centimeters high
Touch our feet, return with a sigh
And he would drag me more closer to him
As I see in every dream.

I closed my eyes to sense his presence
As his breaths mingle with mine
He asked me softly to open my eyes
I obeyed…not expecting his absence

The leaves withered, detached from branches
Screaming and running with panic
The sun drowned behind the dark clouds
The waves splashed with wild sounds.

Everything vanished except darkness
Screaming and shouting without silence…
With open books lying unread on the table
I swayed myself on the rocking chair.