The silence of the air,makes a pin drop deafening

and also makes my exhales ambiguous with the smoke puffs

The snow serves as my tray,making the crumbs of ash stand out

Out they stand,lifeless against the anaemic background

And also standing out,are, the trickling drops of maroon from my exit wound

But disappointingly,what does not stand out

Are the tears rolling down

They get engulfed into an oblivion,as soon as they meet the snow….