By: Neha Singh
With him I was building a castle,
The heap of the good times structuring into doors, windows, sides, boundaries and walls.
His words and mine filling therein the voids.
And whenever, we be at odds, a part somewhere tumbel down, later mended with apologies, leaving some marks behind, to vanish with time.
Though the castle was strong,
a day I woke up to see it gone, a giant wave reason for the fall.
There were remains, the wave didn’t took all.
Remains, I tried to build it again.
Slowly Slowly I reached somewhere, I made some.
No doubt the whole will take time but one day it’ll be done.
I’ve tried and mend some, words and apologies.
Voids, there are still. words are all they need to get done and each time the wave come, laughingly questions,
When will he come? Will he come?