Phantoms…

What happens to the paper
When the words disappear,
When there are no ways left,
When the sun is getting older…

What happens to the fall,
When the rain becomes a bottle,
And swears to stay in the pantry of pain
Till the world shrinks into a rain drop…

What happens to the craze of lights,
When the colors get lost in the dark,
When your dreams become a dot
In a black and white painting…

Who lives there in the world
When you heart becomes a breathless shell,
Which winds dance around the hair of clouds
When the songs decide to hush their sounds…

When your soul turns into a handful of sand
And lies motionless on the bottles of life,
Which desperate hearts stifle their pain
In the flawless streams…

When your breath is getting robbed,
What flies there in your lungs,
When the air turns into flames
And burns you…

Now see what happens to me
When my soul desires to gulp down
The liquid of life in the lost pantry of rain
And never get alive anymore…

When it’s not scared of getting burnt to ashes
When it’s nor scared of getting vanished
In the endlessness of fall
Amid the darkness…

When it is just a sound
That can’t be heard anymore,
When the motions stop,
When there is no time left for prayers…