Tomorrow you'll be gone and I'll miss you

Dear PT,

I wish I could be there this monday when you play live in IIT Bombay. You've been one of my greatest influence in music till date. I may never get to see your live performance ever.

But thank you for the wonderful tracks.

Regards.

Picturesque

Brightest moments spent in dark,
Enchanted a heart would be ,
Illusion painted picturesque,
of all that thrown into nights
left to wither forever-most.

Unclear words sent beeds of painless joy,
far far across , holding thoughts afloat
in warmth of a distance ,
your innocence caught.

' Her Withering petals '

A manifest of this crucified hope,
Familiar sound reflecting his own blood.
Haunting , yet intriguing.
No watcher, no lock ,
only the sweet voice.

Daringly stepped out to see things clear,
Gone before he could see the face,
Left was urge to seek.
Drops of autumn fell on trembling leaves,
red from summer's departure,
weak from lack of light.

The leaves were torn and so was he ,
as he tried to follow her trace.
A winterly wind embraced his throat,
and tried its best to strangle.
What kept him going was what had left him.
It was what he couldn't keep.

Kept hunting ancient traces,
following flickering lights,
This ghost was sculpted by his desire to say goodbye.

Could left the hollow sky , as it swallowed all its sorrow.
Nearly breathless, he grasped the nearest branch.
The voice reappeared , now he was sure that it was her.
So he did his best to force his feet along.

A scarlet dress in the wind,
Shadows on stumps of once mighty trees,
spread rumours of her presence.

Looked into her eyes and took her hands.

This imagined warm touch was his relief,
Kneeling at her feet , ready for his sleep.
Had no longer wish to arise.
Put her arm around him, no more cries.
Slept there until the fierce cold awoke,
to erase all tracks of life.