Randomness

Sometimes a wanderer waits and stops
To capture the frame in her thoughts,
Things that have gone by and moving still,
Her breaths are slow, shallow and shrill,
For things and moments that have passed,
For memories that are now a part of the past,
Living in the moment is the only way to cherish,
For everything moves to dust and later on perish,
The writer tries to re-live the moments of the past,
Wish she could turn the time wheel before breathing her last.