A faint tick-tick of a water-drop
Dripping from a rustic-tap
Echoing through the lazy nights
Almost like a sweet lullaby
Dab-dab of my throbbing heart
The time pauses between the
The two knocks, an ancient
Cradle song lulling me into slumber
But a sound sleep is a distant
Mirage, it seldom knocks
On doors of lonely ones
while some are melting in
the heats of night submerged
in passion filled-songs
others might be again re-
living some vague visions
an ant crawls up my sleeves
searching a crack or fissure
to nap for a while looking
straight in my gaunt eyes
but she has some woe
as me, isolate she just
like me just runs here-
there all this when time
ceases between the
tick-tick a of water-drop
