My friend’s home

Suvarna in darkness

Me deserted by my friend.
His house once a home, now locked.
Shadows though not even a street light,
The walls may have some memories,
Of who hesitated to enter , now barricaded,
The dust on the grills have rusts, of who dared enter,
Searched responseless for a friend, and withdrew,
Told, he a migrant now.
Toiling hard, fortune seeker,
Even in the searing heat of noon,
Must be feeling cold in sweat,
Seeking out to live a life of grandeur,
But here is where we laughed rich and loud,
We now just live our lives so quiet.

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