In some days,
I see my shadow longer
and some days,
shorter than the day itself.
Some days it never shows up
cause I end up wandering
till the dark comes out.
But the flashlights from past
draw an outline on present at
its edges through backlighting.
Sharp rays burn the lines,
& deepened the scar of memories
But fate is only rolling colours
on the embossed surface of it,
to get the pure shades of print
That shall come darker
on the paper of the future.”