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NIGHT TALKS

Swift breeze is what one requests,

It’s the night when you begin the quest.

Strolls and walks breathless,

The talks endless.

Creatures murmuring besides me,

Wanting to go past by to see.

Whatsoever it may be,

One is not given a moment to flee.

Branches grasp your feet,

As intense as a fleet.

Oh these dunes, these branches,

Pull you until your soul drenches.

Even the air comes with no mercy,

As blunt as some secretary stacy.

Those silent steps crumble the leaves,

Bringing your mind to the thieves.

RAHUL SACHAN

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