Proximity into the dark blue sky, the light & shade of the shimmery world makes me feel shy. Dark kohl eyes, watch me by and I lie silent inside the four walls of my life as every second pass by. Melancholic memories echo and leave me furious. As I write, the pen, sweet, but painfully hit my ego. I spend hours with the empty strands and realise that those essays with little hands have casted their ways for bluish poetries. While to my subconscious; poems, stories and some part of you are like cobwebs in the empty strands.