But what when....?

Break of the dusk, slipping into the moonless darkness

Her eyes bled pain, for she saw no future

Only a melancholic mourning, clutching on to the crushed desires

A disciple of death

An employee of demolished dreams

As a roaring fire on a cold coastal night

Fishing in the troubled waters, what would she possibly grip?

Camouflaged, consumed by the abdication

'They'll heal, soon' she recited to save herself from herself.

Engulfed by a storm, that took her away which spelled no return

She rained of misery, of numbness that bit her veins

Looked around, nothing could she call her own

Suppressed sighs so it touched no ears

Beseeched love, of faith or just any sign viable

Dawn paid a religious return.

She flipped the pillow, on a pursuit to disguise the damp

Wiped off the kohl marks, masked a few nude colours

So, she'd pretend, the pretension- she'd mastered to perfection

To look happy, to look content, perfectly appropriate

For once she’d mute, for another, she’d dim.

Only to bar herself from the injury, the hurt

She knew, she had to dust her back,

For, no one would lend an ear to her reasons:

She got on the toes, with standards to rub shoulders with

Set out, to honour the routine, to serve the life's business

But what when,

The colours fade away?

The fate only brings her back to square one?

The brimmed eyes are to show themselves, up again?

Can the dark sunglasses hide her soul from the rest, from herself?