Hands were numb enough for me to not feel my fingers close, a ray of hope was there, but then there was utter despite. Emotions had sprung up once again, tattered and broken but yet the same. It was not the feel of the weather that had caused me to sway, may be it was just another skin of me peeling away. These nights were not that cold, as cold I had become, the mood was just a mere longing of the things once aspired. These nights were not so young, but hollow as the soul that I once followed.
By Shahzaib Sheikh
