The sandy road fresh with footsteps - a forsaken man.
The sunlight peeked in through my curtains amidst the hazy morning.
Past.
My memories fade,
far beneath the stains of time,
my hair turns to grey.
Burnt.
The burnt crisps still glows,
amidst numerous snow flakes,
And my fingers numb-ed.
Tears.
The crystals fall free,
glass breaking, leaves falling free,
Salty smell invades.
The past haunts,
Creeping behind slowly.
One step at a time,
it catches up.