The city sky still warm; burnt orange with ash clouds
Rain will come or not time can say; the breeze is damped diesel
Walking down the street as stranger, am the one of thousand
There she is, my friend my guide–a decade & two or more–my sister
She talk of society when I say to break out of the wedlock
But, I know she is in love; her marriage life is monsoon sea though.
After a long I am seeing her smile; all will say she is happy
Only I know what torment lies under those happy hazelnut eyes.
The sky all its distance is composition of grey mixed with ample west orange.
A young lady I saw with her baby; a cheeky chubby little miss she is
It seem I know someone look like her; cold I felt as I sip on Kold Koffee
Or is it a pang that chime sudden. My sister radiant as her husband on phone.
Incompleteness disappeared as the cold; I sip on her Mango Krush.
The sky is now grey azure; one two few stars twinkling on the neon sky.