Displacing The Milestones

Talking of myths, 
in dichotomy of grace― 
when somebody said that 
the facts were loose truths. 

Your faith slumbers― 
when you are awake. And 
you, my door of night, will 
wear the tears of dawn. 

Not sharing the loneliness, 
when I was dispensing the 
laughs amidst the grief 
of hills. The trees, the slopes 
and seeds― that will never bear 
the fruits. 

And there, I did't want 
to celebrate my unwritten epitaph 
after completing the life 
of falls. 

And the neighborhood still 
sleeps when I decide to walk away 
towards the dark.