Stories

None of the stories saw the dawn,
they lay scattered, strewn across my floor,
A canvaas splashed with colours,
Colours that never bothered to match.

The characters changed with time,
sometimes, they just hobbled and fell
sometimes they walked into oblivion,
and never returned to the stories 

Now, I ponder alone in the dark,
perhaps, they became a part of some other story
stories which lie knotted in the dust
away from the naked eyes

perhaps, stories too have a destiny,
some are never meant to be born
while some never see the dawn