Dead leaves fluttering and dumped on the doorway.
Emotions suppressed underneath and flooding at the wrong places.
A smile faked while the shine subdued in my eyes.
People roaming without any presence.
Then suddenly, realisation of my fading sense.
Over-thinking, weakness or strength, bemused.
Coming forth, going back, not really elucidated.
Tears fall, dry up and again there’s a mist in front.
Feeling sick within and without.
Nobody for me except for the love which you flout.
Love is a mystery, journey, an experience.
Everyone says so, but few may actually ascertain it.
When I say, I love, I truly contemplate that fervour.
Now, it’s no more caring for someone, but just dumb-shows,
As I stand here today as a single red rose.