Remnants of a solute

In those last moments

One wants to come home

To be near his dear ones

One wants to hear hype

Miracles are accepted

One wants to return to childhood

Everything seems possible

One wants to sleep in that room

Where the cot is kept

To dream in mother's lap

Wearing rose tinted glasses

Every moment seems bonus

Many things take a back seat

Many things occupy six Anna seat

Everything looks big on the imaginary screen

Yet no one wants to dissolve completely

One wishes to remain as remnants of a solute