By Sristy Choudhury
Betrayal is not a syndrome
but a craft that some people master,
Red bulbs, green butterflies, dark sky.
He walks out that door,
not looking once into my eyes,
Smoke, frost, dark sky.
If you don't want me,
you shall not be bothered,
if sky was to fall,
you shall be safe
like you are in my heart,
And I -crushed
like I am under your betrayal.