In the city's heart, where neon lights gleam,
Vihaan sat late, lost in a coder's dream.
With Aarav he spoke, in room thirteen's glow,
Outside, raindrops danced, putting on a show.
A bolt from the blue, a mug meets its fate,
Memories of Tara, a promotion's date.
Aarav’s worried gaze, "Stay the night," he said,
But home's pull was strong, where dreams often led.
With keys left behind, and time's fleeting hand,
Vihaan's heart raced, fate had something planned.
Elevator’s jolt, a moment's despair,
Yet onward he went, with nary a care.
At the gateway paused, rusted gates resist,
The world's subtle signs, too many to list.
Music in the air, lightning’s eerie song,
Distorted tunes, where shadows belong.
At the crossroads stood, two paths lay ahead,
One old, one renewed, one filled with more dread.
The river’s dark edge, where old tales reside,
Vihaan chose that path, with time as his guide.
Two cars intertwined, one eerily same,
Darkness cloaked the truth, in night's quiet game.
Yet morning light broke, sounds of sorrow deep,
Unseen, unheard, Vihaan’s soul did weep.
White robes, silent cries, a scene all too stark,
Vihaan stood adrift, in grief's shadowed park.
His face, his own eyes, staring from a frame,
Whispers in the rain, life's never the same.