She stood by the door and waited,
For her pulse to start beating again,
Her heart to start singing,
Her lips to curve into a smile.
Her lonely vigil went unrewarded,
Her dreams remained hungry,
Her eyes hauntingly vacant,
Her soul mercilessly excavated.
Dust of her crushed heart settled,
Scabs covered her wounds.
Blood no longer oozed out of cuts,
And deep gashes of his neglect.
There was a loud knock on the door
Its hinges groaned in protest
His voice reached her ears
Her feet froze on the floor.
He had come back to her
Kept his erstwhile promise
But she had ceased to be,
In his lingering absence.
By Sulekha Rawat