Why So Late!

Steaming hot tea
And there
Nothing more than your image.
I only,
Only look that way,
Where an image not so clear
Not so dull…
That was all I saw that evening!

So I ask,
Was that really you?
Or,
That same old charm:
“Oft’ spell my soul” of yours?
But, every time I try,
Try to clear my throat
All those confusions
Clutched my throat, so firm
I only cry the confusion.
Don’t know why,
If I were to commit something
Or, I were to play them
Why they wait all these evenings?

So again.
I ask why so long,
So long for a spelled soul to repent.

If these steams
Can redeem me
Or something more than the thirst
I will,
Yes, I will definitely ask
Why so late?