Gazed back at the ghats,
with the sunken sun behind.
Took only a tilt-up,
To see what I left behind.

There it stood-still,
Like a silver stud.
Alone and beyond-
The reach of my mind.

Browsed through the skies,
Of the days and the nights.
Have I forgotten?
The goodnight stars.

Six, seven, eight.
I lost count.
“They never end”, said,
The arm that I held.

The frozen crystal,
Never was still.
It’s gentle quiver,
Underlined my fear,
To forget.

To not to be forgotten.

- Aadil Varsh