Anonymous Scribbles (2)

time travels with the moments as the thoughts grow deeper

to someone tis the hour of the fall

          leaves colouring the roads to brown

to someone tis a pain that keeps strolling

          through every chapter of ones life

to me they are age-old close friends

perception and feelings

neither could be spoken to others nor tis easy to keep them to oneself

in the end all remains a mystery

                         folded and hidden forever

sitting by the window the eye-glasses

            cold timid and dry

witness the falling leaves

      dancing with the birds returning to their evening nests

the breeze whistle all over the place

      the hymns of the season echo all over

I cry out but of fatigue the words die down

I searched the words but was slow

      late and tired

all dead and engraved in the snow

      resting peacefully with smiles of satisfaction

remaining unspoken forever