The worst, is over.

The worst, is over.

She sighs relief,

when the warmth of daylight,

greets the curtains of her eyes..

It's morning again,

the worst, is over.

There's nothing different today,

the sun's the same as yesterday,

but it's daylight,

she sees movement.

Her mind takes to business,

her subconscious soul- dead.

The day smiles at her hardwork,

it smiles at every emotion, every memory,

she works to sweat off.

When every bead of sweat,

splashes another alibi,

into the ocean of a distorted will,

a will to forget.

As the evening proceeds,

her subconscious soul stirs in sleep,

the moon shyly peaks,

at her who's running away,

away to a horizon,

chasing the sun.

And as the sun sets,

and the lullaby of night falls,

the warmth is forgotten,

and the lull of memories vaporize and escape,

that corner of the heart....

The subconscious soul in her,

lies awake.

Ready to remember...

~*~

She sighs relief,

when the warmth of daylight,
greets the curtains of her eyes..
It's morning again,
the worst, is over.


-Nil.