The End The ring of death have called us both, The old same story, rushed us into that end of the road. Painting the darkest blues as if we were their painters. Our fingers which could only count the time left for us to be together. With very less time of mine, I shared it with you to confront against my own war. And you made me a warrior to fight our war which could only end In the cemetery of our death-buried bodies. The fate which none of us could bend, You turned that weak soul to nourish , To mock death as if it was never an end. Venturing me into the swirl of every breath, Holding the zest of scars we both shared. That stars which we could stare at, With no looming fear of death to be apart, laying in the sands of your wish of living with me, Writing our own long story. You cheated me again, even in this dream; plotting your own intended twists, Leaving me alone to write that half of the our story which we're suppose to complete. An attempt to give a tribute to SSR and the whole team of Dil Bechara for this masterpiece. #SSR #Dilbechara#poetry#sanjanasanghi
