The Lost Promise

Not a single crimson lodged westwards,

Without spaces for her softer words-

A juvenile girl, in lower grade she read,

So sweet in phrases, shared often,

Those soothing chants that breathed always,

Naught ere, did her breath console low,

Sometimes with tears inscribed, wet,

And joy at times, of length akin,

Her childish youth laden, thus filled my breath,

And beyond brim often, pouring thence,

 To neighboring nerves of most beats

Like white fall, of bubbly summer stream,

Curling down, green bosoms of lower earth,

Same did time wane in tiny paces,

Beyond seven full moon almost,

Guidance sometimes, for her maturing nerves,

And at times, same gossips smoothened,

Nesting me, in worship of her elders,

Every finger strikes, so bound closer,

Soothing most pinched sores too.

One fine evening, verses stretched long,

Where I recall yet, her promise-

“My friend, you shall be first listed,

To unlock buzz and save me in pockets too,

For, my mom owe me a phone next morrow,

Thence would its inauguration marked,

And thus Christmas glow”-

“Gallons of wishes li’l girl- gallons,

Let heavens shower holy petals ere” I quoted,

Partial of joy seeping into mine

Early next dawn of drizzly dark,

With faint streaks of eastern waves,

Coursing through my left oriel,

And amidst paces of most lighter throbs,

My steps moved through, till minutes passed,

Where then a shadow crept in;

“Grave of quarter world swept- a Tsunami”,

Shuffling to nearby mirror, I glanced,

My hands shivering and eyes blurred,

Heart numbed, I asked- she was off

Queries heaped, and patience busted,

Sprinkled myself, over pale lawn

Yet hopes green for her reassurance,

Dreamy hours passed, and I rushed more,

Found she still off and quiet.

Never again, my quote labeled,

Hundreds queries thence perished,

Hopes drenching in overwhelming waves

Days passed, months and years too now,

Heavens back from long turmoil,

And hell dumped down far below,

When my nerves in perfect ease-

Or sitting beneath warmth of distant stars,

The questions repeat those fading times-

“Is she living in some nooks of same?

Or got her last breath soiled by those”

I pray thus, her silence far, than never!