I can see you fading away,
like the dimming flame of
that candle, which has reached
its bottom and is now going to
submit itself to the darkness.
I can see you fading away,
like the memory of that
old rusted, broken car,
which I once saw on
the highway, abandoned.
I can see you fading away,
like my zest for playing guitar,
which is kept at the corner
of my room, which sometimes
peeps and tries to remind me
of its existence, which I tend
to ignore most of the time,
because, time is what, I have not.
I can see you fading away,
but I’m trying hard not to
let go of you, for you’re
the pillar of my existence.
Poetry, my zest for writing,
I can see you,
fading away,
from me.
-Abhishek Gupta.