Today also,
the sun has risen from the eastern horizon,

But, I feel no
warmth inside me,

And no golden
rays elate me.

I see the
birds chattering from the broken window pane ,

And inside me
a fierce pain,

Of a long lost
memory.

A face
...floats before my eyes,

And a memory
seems to arise....

But again gets
suppressed,

And gets
erased...

I see a boy
standing on my gate,

With his dear,
dear mate.

Looking for
their lost ball in my garden.

I go down,
find it and throw it at them, with a smile lingering on my lips,

They run away.

I go back, up
into my house

And in front
of my window,

I look up at
the blue canvas,

The white
paint dripping off,

And the black
paints are sprinkled,

On the now
pink canvas.

Now, as night
comes near,

The birds go
back to their abodes,

And the
farmers take the long road,

To go back to
their homes.

And every
child goes back from play to eat their fill and lay.

But, no one
comes knocking on my door.

No child, no
man come and take my hand to soothe me.

As ...I keep
on seeing

I have no
flesh, no blood running through my weary veins....

I am but stuck
in an awful nightmare.

I am a soul,

I have already
played my role in the play called life,

And now I am
called-

The Ghost By
The Window Pane....