Perfect Room

Tableaux I see from those old panes,
A painting forlorn and forgotten on that stained wall,
Embellished portico with wind chimes all around,
Few frames on that dust laded table,
Carrying snaps from my childhood to adolescence,
Some notes still incomplete with those ink stains.
Those papers that once were snowy have grown yellow.
It seems that coffer was never used; still it bemuses of what it stores,
Those charismatic carving it adorns.
The carpet still feels the same,
Warm and cozy beneath the feet,
That wrought iron bed untouched as ever,
That mauve colored lamp lies all aloof,
It’s a perfect cascade, a perfect ‘leit motif’
It’s perfect as it was to be,
For everything except me fits in; for everything I ever kept cherishes its tranquillity.
A vicissitude, came and gone.
A transition that was inevitable.
Still this cell seems pristine, I can still smell paint brush colours,
I can still see those flourishing climbers.
Still this cell smells of compassion and ebullience.
Still this smells of love and hope.
It’s on an edge of oblivion,
I’m back again from an eidetic experience.............I left long ago,
I missed you all under those predicament,
With spatial existence........here I stand,
Back again within a perfect room,
I have returned here after a voyage unexplored,
To enunciate my story, across the globe,
I’m back again from an eidetic experience.............I left long ago,
Back again to a perfect room,