After We Have Gone Poem by Akham Nilabirdhwaja Singh

Darling, the tale of you and I,
When we are gone will drift and die,
The roads we walked, those quiet lanes
Will change their faces, lose their names.
The country paths, we use to roam,
Where evening light would call us home
Will trade their hush for honk and hum -
The peace we know will not become.
And pakora scent would warm the air,
Will fade like smoke from a spent flame.
Its seat unfilled, no one to claim.
The lonely stretch we watched the sky
Will brim with stalls, bright signs nearby;
Where once were trees and song of breeze
Now commerce crowds and traffic's ease.
When we have gone, our story's thread
Will fray like others - softly shed;
Yet while we lived those days so true,
The world was ours - if just a view