When the game's last scene arrived,
Bags packed, a late bird serenaded.
Thought the stage in stillness sailed,
"Where were you in the frenzy's cascade?"
In need's abyss, you remained unseen,
Countless games and distant flights in time's chest.
Dreams, like grains, slipped silent to the ground,
As I packed, unexpected melodies heard.
The long-forgotten calls ringing now,
Morning's song, a chance rebound.
Who stirred me from sleeps moments,
Though forgotten, echoes of many stay,
Sporadic melodies, in persistence, play.
SV Prabhath
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