I'll meet you my friend,
far from today, when our skins are lose
and hairs be grey.

Forgotten we'd have,
all these unpleasant memories and
shallow souvenirs of egos hurt;
for, time is but a luscious demoness,
courted by oblivion alone.

We'd have a lot to speak;
a lot to accuse and forgive;
or maybe we'd just smile,
exchange a fragile hug, perhaps.

But, I'll meet you my friend,
far from today, when our skins are lose
and hairs be grey.

We'll sip our coffees on a park bench old;
over a sunset full of memories cold.
I'll lend you my diary and a bleeding pen,
to read through the pages, I left blank back then.

- AbhiN