Sagarika Julka - Memory lane

One night, when my window panes,
Were blurred with the monsoon rains;
I took a stroll, myself all alone.
Down the solitaire memory lane.
A path, it is, twisting here and then;
Up and down, winding in joy and pain.
Here I see moments of happy days,
From a child to a girl dozing in fun and play.
There hung few annoying frames,
Of what I would love to repaint.
Landmarks of my life stand tall,
At every crossroad of what I recall
Suddenly, here I find a little alley,
Darting out of the often-tread
Streets of my memory valley;
I dared to step into it, dark and new
My bare feet hurting, as I walked through.
Lots of broken pieces of my heart
Made up the ridged stony path.
No nostalgia' flowers blossomed here,
The air was filled with clouds of tears.


I moved slowly, taking a heed,
I rather not dither my heart, than feet!
At a lonely corner of the grey street,
Within a mist of psychotropic sheet,
I spotted a dirt-adorned grotesque chest;
Should I open it, should I not?
At last myself, temptations hardly could resist
With screeches, cackles, and clutters,
The lid opens up in distress….
I found some ashes of my dreams,
Two champagne glasses,1 with a crimson rim.
A ditty of a lovestory, some torn pages,
Of a hardbound book I read half way;
Few pieces of deluded kisses,
Scattered beads of unstrung promises.
Damp and wet feelings incessantly,
Fumed out from the chambers of the alley;
I closed my eyes, better not stoke the fire,
Let it stay in the solemn mares.
Locked inside the casket of pain,
Let me walk away this memory lane.

Sagarika Julka

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/memory-lane-7/