He said, "In heaven it's always autumn."
I guess,
The tree under which you're taking rest after your long tiresome day is withered by now,
Leaves have started falling, as if the first snow of a freezing season.
As if the wind whispered in my ears,
"Don't melt like a metal, rather be a diamond- strong and beautiful. You won't grow with age, that's really just a number. Accept deaths, that's how you mature."
I could've taken solace in a shoulder,
Or atleast by sharing some meaningless words.
But probably the journey all alone
was too much for these little feet,
I don't cry
when I get hungry now
or when I mumble in my head and keep silent,
or when I can't find a fond one around.

I'm a grown-up now.
And I don't cry for flesh.
With closed eyes, I can only imagine
Hope, there's a better place.

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