Digging the cavern of heart,
I have brought out
A swarm of demolished dreams.
Which were once,
Like the newly bloomed blossoms of spring.
The scattered luster,
In the dark halloween.
But now they are nothing but,
A pile of ruins,
A violent nostalgia.
Which blames me every single second,
For bringing up some violet dreams.
But it doesn't have any curiosity to know,
Who the real culprit is!
Who allegedly decayed,
The wreath of my purple dreams.
Now I use to wear a mask on my face,
So that nobody can guess,
That the murderer of my dreams,
Was so much vile,
That I have even forgotten to glitter my face,
With a fake smile.
©Ankita~~~~