When the dance ends….
The dance of world ended with the slumber of the sun. Darkness lurked around like a guardian in a clock of an executioner. Roads shed traffic, sleeping naked, without being ashamed. Tall buildings was longer prompted to hold names. They submerged with the indistinguishable silhouette. No shade of light was left. Nothing enticing like the breasts of a dead old woman. An eternal silhouette with vindictive teeth, grinning, teasing, making fun.
The boat on riverbank seemed so small. Who could think that it was meant to play a huge role in connecting two banks, two parts of world? So peaceful. So innocent. A picture of lost time.
Waves of water on the river told stories of lost love and repeated grief. Same old sorrow. Their mouth pronounced only vowels, sounded like bark of street dogs. That language wafted in the air like a moribund whisper, slightly recognisable by the emptiness. I was in that emptiness. I was real. I was abstract. I was that time which depicted two sides of soul; one with light and another with darkness.
Change was so lucid, so inevitable, so real. Cloud changed with vehement temperature of day. Bird changed with evolution or maybe mutation. And world changed with the intervention of heaven and hell.
