far from the lanes of dusty memories,holding on some grey shades of forgotten cherries,
i was walking with bare foot of mine,
that was covered with the mud of endless time
deep within was so cold so calm,
with those wet cheeks laying upon rigid palm,
But just in mid way when i sat on a empty bench,
all the path behind took a tight clench
far from the rhymes of those silent lips
that sung amid some beautiful tulips
all went past along with the time it took
but left behind some tulips under pages of my flip-book
far in the barren pastures i laid my lone heart,
who was goaded with life's some painful dart,
seeking to take quite street there after,
to tear memories of some undisclosed chapter