Past the dawn,
through the plot,
sheltered by canopy of green.
Lamps stood along the way,
into the dimly lit path,
where shadows follows.
Pair of footsteps,
greeting the park,
though the fallen leaves.
Dried and cracked,
they littered the ground,
like a carpet laid for guests.
Air was getting steamy,
but the walk still keeps on going,
so long the path does not show an ending.
Till the stairs the path leads,
underneath the starry night sky,
with the luminous moon nearby.
Gazing at the worldly bodies,
speaking of now and the then,
wouldn't it be nice,
if time could stop at this instance.
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