The same concrete walls
its lilac tinge has succumbed to time
the yawning space glaring-
ardent to unfold the undisclosed.
Sunlight forcing through the holes
she stood at the dead center
of the murky deserted room.

If the walls could speak-
would tell all, about the blood spots
one night with gaping wound
how he had pleaded for shelter
she screamed out of fear, apprehending the worst.
Alas! She found a knight
near her feet, unconscious.

The walls would tell how
she nursed him back to health
and how her folks damned her to hell.
Love besieged loyalty to her land-
“traitor, betrayer” they all called her.
Alone she fought for love so novel
‘humanity’ she thought would prevail.

The room- testimony of the past
still echoes the moans of the vibrant moments
when the wretched bold lovers,
condoning arched eyebrows,
engaged themselves in entrancing dance.
Fearing none as they held each other
defying uncertainty of the future.

The walls silently stood witnessing
how anxiously he turned her to face them all
that night, as he departed stealthily
and pledged to return before long.
Silhouetted in the dark she stood still
brushing aside a tear drop, she smiled
her love would retrace in a short while.

The walls would testify how she had wailed
when her faith in love shattered,
the moments had no conviction for her future
left alone to make love to her misfortune.
Her unfulfilled dreams relentlessly mocked at her
she buried her soul unceremoniously
and sacrificed her body to imposed matrimony.

Years have passed; she has not entered the room
the walls refreshed the aching times of yore
as she encountered her haunting past.
She has finally come to bury her vibrant eon
a sepulchral aura – alone she mourned,
her wrinkled eyes, closed for a brief moment
thus concluding- chronicle of the deserted room.