Absence Poem by Prakhar Sharma

Oh how I wish you were here, we could have been happy.
The train will lead to nothingness, the doors of truth runs on the broken tracks.
There will be a light on the floor where lay our remains, shining shattered shame.
You will move further, farther will be my catch. What about the mountains when the molehills are no more?
The stream of blame will no longer need Fauna, the droughts will be our living dream.
No more carpets of infinite sadness, they all end up being dusty. Covering the pot holes, guess that's poetic justice.
So maybe my patience paid at first, I boarded the houseboat of inked mind.
Let the bygones be bygones, the present is unpleasant alcoholic monotony.
I could have been the light you demanded, as I was one under the veil.
You knew the sleep was hasty, so you preferred another bed while I chose a habit called somnambulism.
The unwritten is the end, the air will sway our sight to the last page,
And who knows my prayers of dismay could be the paddle to your glory.
Oh how I wish you were here, we could have been happy.