It is a day or night I don’t know,
I am walking along the sea shore since long,
with bare feet and bare hands.
Don’t know how much I have travelled,
perhaps the moments are freezed.
When I turned back, my foot prints are disappeared,
waves of the time bring them into the heart of a deep ocean,
from where no one can come back.
Like in a desert some soft cool breeze
bring all the marks quietly with her,
for . . . forever,
where all is dead,
but living in my soul.