One day when I will die
With a story untold,
The words I wanted to say
But my body turned cold.
My arm will be holding a book
Which will give my story a expanse,
When no body was near
Blank pages gave chance.
So I choke myself with smile
Because my own hands turned into claw,
Everything became quiet
And from above somethings I saw.
‘They all thumbed through my pages
But only her hand stained by my ink,
She felt the smudges of my tears on paper
And all my writing founds its worth in that single blink.’