Saturday, 27 July 2013

Windy Day

It's a windy day,
and a small railway station,
few kids are playing,
with pebbles and dreams,
The station master looks weary,
his wrinkles showing his age,
And there's a sage,
waiting for the train,
until it starts to rain,
he runs away,
looking for a shelter,
But I stood there,
For she was on the other side,
the one with twinkling eyes,
that carried a burden immense,
I wonder what,
I wonder why,
I keep wondering until,
she starts to cry,
I want to cross over,
I want to run and grab her,
Pull her away,
Far away from her pain,
And there's a train,
chugging towards the station,
It won't stop,
Rain won't stop,
She won't stop crying,
I won't stop trying,
To cross the platform,
Before the train arrives,
But why?
Why is she standing on the edge,
Can't she hear the train?
I scream,
She looks towards me,
She wants to say something,
I can't hear,
The train's too near,
I ask her to wait,
Let it pass,
And her eyes gleam,
Is that a ray of hope,
Or was it the final goodbye,
As she lays down on the tracks, dead;
I couldn't even cry,
Who was she,
Why was she,
It never mattered,
As her body pieces lie scattered,
On the railway track,
I look towards the blue sky,
Because the ground's just red,
And I wonder about,
What she wanted to say,
But the rain's droplets concealed her words,
On this windy day ...


  1. the unsaid final goodbye..

  2. why kill the girl Mr.Writer? nicely written :)

    1. I didn't kill her, she jumped in front of the train. :'(

  3. The goosebumps refuse to go even after I finished reading this encounter.

    Beautifully written and captured. I felt as if it was happening right before my eyes.

    You are a blessed writer.

    1. Thanks a lot sherry, and I know, I myself felt those goosebumps while writing it. :)