Don’t go.

I saw him smile
For a while
In the midst of a gathering
And only but for a moment,
His eyes rolled up…

As if, he was now living a memory
And all his present was the past.

White flowers,
people flocking in
Many in serious debate
Many freeing their soul
He sits right in the midst of all,
Living a memory,
A Beautiful Memory.

He could hear her voice,
A voice so comforting,
A voice that to him, was home
A voice, he so yearned now to hear.

A forest fire,
Or so it was.
Her voice,
Softer,
Feebler
Weaker now.

Faded away,
As the flames consumed her.

She will remain,
A Beautiful Memory
-Anirudh Shankaran.

Photographer – Aarthi Shankaran.

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