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