The weeping eyes

At the time of dusk I look at you from the window,

With eyes so moist and hair ruffled you look at me.

With lips which don’t remember when they last smiled,

With arms which don’t remember when they didn’t have to be stretched so wide,

You look at me with questions umpteen,

You look at me with pain wrapped in silence.

I look at you and your eyes light up in hope,

I look at you and then I look straight.

I see your little palm hovering on the glass,

A significant discomfort creeps within me.

I look at you and then look within,

Trying hard to break the glass, break the helplessness.

Where you should be running behind butterflies aimlessly,

You run behind wheels fearlessly.

Where life should have intrigued you,

You seem to have seen it all.

Where bedtime stories should have made you sleep,

The sounds of vehicles and human cries lull you off.

I stretch out my hand with strength,

I can’t promise you, but I promise myself.

The voice which I have never cared to hear,

I shall hear it now.

The crippled voice tells me to perish if I have to live only for self,

You shall see the colour yellow and paint the sky purple.

It is a prayer which goes out from heart so full of mist.