GONE

Now all my life would pass in flames
My own shadow would call me names
Now every day would be a night
And weeping, the night, I would spend
Now no breath would bring in life
I would just wait for the end

From now on my blood would be a waste
Would come back the demons that I effaced
Now no one would count my wounds
And no wound would have a cure
Now even the air would feel venomous
My cries won’t be heard anymore

From now my eyes would not cry
Blood would drop out of each eye
You left me just on the way
You left me hanging by the rope
Neither dead nor alive, my friend
I would just exist in the hope:

That someday you would return and I
May return to life or finally die

--Rishiraj