Oindrilla Das

"It is in the silence that I remember you,
Softly whispering in my ear,
Like the rustling of leaves on a cold winter night,
The stories of a bygone year.

It is in the silence that I remember you,
By the fireplace crackling through the night,
The glow of its embers wrap me warm,
Like the blanket of your eyes.

It is in the silence that I remember you,
Whilst the snow piles up my sill,
The last leaf strains against the branches, white,
And I wonder, do you remember me still?"

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Voices Through the Midnight Mist: Of candles, vanilla pages and misty moors...

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