And when I’m gone

Don’t keep my memories in the glorious petals of a rose,

But in the leaves fallen, yellowed telling the story of Sun’s terrifying face nobody knew about.

Don’t search for my fragrance in the sir of suburbs.

But in murky breathe of the woods

A rage my soul created inside my mind

Don’t let my poetries become a page in the torn book kept in a four walled confinement

Rather see my story screaming in the way the windows rattle,

Reminding you of a silent storm inside my eyes

Don’t drink my essence from the same bottle I used to drink from

But see my presence jumping with the glimmer over the river free and unabashed.

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