On the other side

Lies a land
Witness to the neighborhood prayers
And the morning bells.
Vacant, listening to the rush of trains.

Secrets blooming in white and red
Spreading green, vanishing trails.
Lost spirits creeping in geckos,
Shadows of goodwill, guardian of homes.

Hiding the abandoned, yet to be dead
Desires buried somewhere
Moments from generations kept
Like the unopened letters.

Awake at nights, when there is light
I shall lay mine too.