Along the once-much-too-familiar
But now skidding-into-oblivion route,
That reeked of scenes
Emblazoned on the gateway of my heart,
I beat on my hooves,
After eons of time, it seemed.
The spot,
Where we once locked our gaze,
Where, amid tohu-bohu of a street noise,
We held hands,
While the eyes of civilization
Pecked at our insides,
Came into view.
This time around I waited not an instant,
But turned my eyes forward,
And walked on,
While composing a poem
Out of my ruins.