I flip the pages of my memory.
Backwards they go.
I walked in those halls.
Halls that were unfamiliar.
They had strange patterns.
With awful colour combinations.
All of them.
Faces with no features.
One of them was red.
Like red cherry wine,
waiting to be sipped.
The other hall was made
of crystal.
Clear, clean and pure.
The next one was sapphire blue.
I got lost in its royalty.
And then, there was black.
Black - like burned coal.
I touched it.
I got a scar.
The halls possessed my minds.
Powerfully.
Like never ending numbers.
Infinity.
Like long passages,
they had no windows or doors.
I looked for a way out.
But there was no way.
The halls were narrow.
I touched them
with my hands.
The walls were cold,
tortuously hot.
They were topsy-turvy.
These thoughts…
Are they dreams
that I vaguely remember?
The details are tricky.
Hard to figure out.
The transition?
It was like
going on a picnic.
With no food,
red cherry wine, blankets,
or candles.
These thoughts…
they are unromantic.
My soul,
it got murdered, stabbed.
Each time these momentos
plagued my mind.
And each time I thought
those
thoughts.

Environment serene,
tranquil and peaceful.
Drinks required?
None.
Affection -
the self craves
The mind isn’t even aware of.