Down the memory lane.
By Shruti Abhishek Shetty
Ice-cold raindrops fell on her back,
as she ran bare handed towards a shelter.
She sneak-peeked through a gap,
between the edge and the door.
It was all bright inside and nothing,
but few webs and dried leaves scattered.
Rain water gushed between her feet,
she was left with no option but to shift.
She tick-tocked on the wooden planks,
arranged well but it still creaked.
She walked below a lavish chandelier,
that might have looted the wallet.
She trolled towards the room,
with torn sheets and empty cupboards.
Mirror reflected herself as brown shadow,
but she fell on the bed and sleep creeped.
She woke and as she tied her locks,
witnessed something similar she daily saw.
She was at her own bed and room,
but her hairstrands still smelled dust and saw.