Echoes

Waking up to the ringing bells, trying to hold on to those fading hands;

Catching myself short of breath, finding myself in some distant land;

Tired of staring at the horizon, wondering if these walls would ever break;

Strolling across the yellow fields, imagining how things once were;

Running around in circles, laughing till we hit the ground;

Incognizant of the ominous winds; we once shone like the amber;

Dropping dead on bruised knees, trying to hold on to those fading hands;

Still chasing the vivid butterflies, this is the fleeting glance of my life;

Gazing from the corner of eyes; reminiscing through the wounds that never heal;

Picking each memory that lay scattered somewhere in my mind;

Deluding myself with vain hopes and wishes; hoping to find the missing pieces in the rubble;

 To go back in time;

Spaces, empty spaces, where children once cried;

Left with just a black hole to fill the void;

Wishing if I had left the crowd and stayed behind;

Echoes that still come back to haunt, illusions that make me blind;

Apprehending the creeping time;

Home, once stood there my home.