Echoes of Timeless Love

In the echoes of slippers, in footsteps' flight,

A symphony of dogs ready to ignite,

I tread the streets where shadows play,

A man with a cigarette lost in yesterday.

The Krishna Temple glows, divine and bright,

A jewel eclipsing the silver night.

Its carved spires, a testament so rare,

Hold whispers of secrets hung in the air.

Among the hum of tea-sellers' call,

Couples entwined where memories fall.

We stood, hands clasped, in the temple’s grace,

A fleeting promise in that cherished place.

The moon, a silent watcher in the blue,

Tells me that my beauty stays true.

Yet my heart denies the gentle lie,

In your absence, only shadows sigh.

Strawberry Bubble Tea, a sweet refrain,

Each sip a memory, each sip a chain.

The pigeons stirred by wings’ soft flight,

Feeding them on your birthday night.

How your eyes sparkled, how laughter sang,

When one perched on your hand, gently it sprang.

A photo lives in my gallery’s fold,

But you, my love, my heart’s hold.

What name befits this untamed fire,

This echo of dreams, this unquenched desire?

Even Radha’s tale met love’s cruel end,

What hope for a man in this age to fend?

Midnight whispers as days entwine,

Tomorrow’s breath and yesterday’s spine.

Facing the temple, I pray for you still,

While stone-spout waters calm my will.

In the solitude of night’s embrace,

I find a peace that time cannot erase.