The nights are sleepless as predictable
The slips of false step have been in the dreams accountable.
She speaks with lisp 
To the fact, crafts nothing in prayers.
In sake of secrecy
The full moon light is all where she stares.
The girl shifts in place
while the pangs of guilt stays her awake.
She wakes up irritated to the rings of  morning greets
For now she expects none.
With sips of brew she breaks her familial sighs & sniffles
The sunshine over the shrubs of white roses witnesses the growth of unconditional change in her,
In the guise she is ignorant of her void
In the grace she unlearns sentiments amid those fragrance.
The unfinished reveries under the respite of Gulmohar evergreen buys luxury to her diurnal delight.
The cavity of her heart accepts her silence
An anonymous overstrain lurks the  response of repentance.
She can't curse her expectations over intuitions, was deprived of slightest premonition
She hopes not to heal in new snuggles
In abundance of twilight existence, she over plays the melody to which the rhythm of her heart beats.
If sole dream exists to come to fruition, 
She would live those 150 days back in the calendar.
She in search of pit to bury the stale guilt Before some sluggish expectations stacks on.

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