Home alone.....
Making a painting from the splashes of the past,
With the bold strokes of the remains of the last,
With the hues of the faded life,
In the dark and tranquil night,
The final stroke, bemoans the sad demise,
Soaring high, in the realm of life,
As you gaze into the emptiness that fills the air.
A Droplet tends to fall,
While your memory races back to the time,
When you thought you had it all!
By Koko Di'
I still feel that they were just the random thoughts:)
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