Melancholy

A wind that carries the hole of in my heart , a wind carries her a hundred years. It was long time ago when the world tore us apart , and it was 4 in the morning in Shillong when she last stood outside a gate waiting for drunk and forlorn so. I breath her when the world suffocated me and on many night it was her name I mourn. Years have passed and I golden harvest and and crystal river of Nungshang.......... and the winds have blown away all the pain and rub the sores of the scar now it is a shell that lives looking for a new host.