Estranged in the desert of your life,
The hot winds hurl you in a storm of dust.

No water , no soul to comfort you
The yearning in your heart it grew.
Vultures circling above you,
Waiting for you to fall.

The Riches you possess mean nothing here,
Truth, swift and dry
No money-drive , no gold reserves can help you through this,

  • The Vultures close in,
    You fall on your knees,
    You remember every sin,
    Every Moment of glee, all the trees
    Around your house,
    And her voice lingers,
    (Come back, before it gets dark)
    -Anirudh Shankaran.

Photographer – Aarthi Shankaran.


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