A perfect photo frame, brimmed full of empty people
Neatly crammed amidst a slowly rotting maple
A colored requiem of what are now colorless lives
Evidence of moments in time that still cuts like a knife
That photograph has grown old but haven\'t aged
Unlike the people pictured in that glassy cage
Who In their quest of gaining a better leverage
Don\'t even recognize themselves, behind that glaze
But a look of recognition brighter than a blaze
Glistening from those crystal eyes is leaving them dazed
A perfect photo frame, like the head of a deer
Is a severed part of the things once held dear
A part of ever-changing relations and seminal times
Severed before they are vanished into thin air
Now hangs lifelessly for our crimes
on the wall of our ego\'s lair
Masquerading as a souvenir
A souvenir of memories and their forgotten reasons
Now they are just reminders of bitter treasons
In the wake of fading memories of better reasons
It has incarcerated all that in its prison
While it\'s prisoners of expectations keep on changing by the seasons
A perfect photo frame, suspended by a thread to the nail
Just like behind its glass veil
Those people inside who are now frail
Condemned to see each other miserably fail
And yet are clinging on to the past that is stale
what a great scheme of blackmail ....
And as those people go for a rollercoaster ride
It is still hanging strong against the swing of pendulum with all its pride
It has captured their souls and the essence of those times
Maybe that\'s why even through all the dark times those smiles have kept their shine
A perfect headstone to an imperfect shrine
A perfect photo frame, enduring every blame
Still keeping alive somewhere, that old flame
Was once a savage beast now appears tamed
A window overlooking the memory lane
Lane where those memories live as immortal
Walking through which your legs always falter.