Room Number : 15

I took a room at a Hotel Nowhere,

Room Number: 15; 

Rusty old room with web of discreetness,

I lighted a cigarette and sat on the broken chair.

Through the colored broken windows,

Shades of light steaks played hide and seek.

Reflecting untold whims of lives,

The time was dragging along,

Like the creaky fan that whined like an old lady.

As the night crept in, I lay along the shades of gray,

I lay on the mattress of dusted memories.

This room had witnessed everything,

From love to lust,

From hope to despair,

From joy to sorrow,

This room had beheld everything.

Scribbling’s of desperation,

Lost identities of unknown souls,

All bore in the barren walls of the room.

In the morose room, the time was travelling backwards.