Spring will not blossom,
No rose will bloom,
Her heart will wither away
In the cold wintry gloom.
She'll die a little this day,
Every moment, everyday,
Her soul will know intense pain
And the dreaded color gray.
Miles apart, barely sentient,
She'll wait, she'll paint,
Happy pictures of togetherness
Till the numbing aches faint.
She'll know not happiness,
But the harsh chill of loneliness,
She'll pray he returns in the fall,
Before her life evanesces.
No rose will bloom,
Her heart will wither away
In the cold wintry gloom.
She'll die a little this day,
Every moment, everyday,
Her soul will know intense pain
And the dreaded color gray.
Miles apart, barely sentient,
She'll wait, she'll paint,
Happy pictures of togetherness
Till the numbing aches faint.
She'll know not happiness,
But the harsh chill of loneliness,
She'll pray he returns in the fall,
Before her life evanesces.
It is only memories that can fill the void left by gloom. I loved the line "till the numbing aches faint", almost like, even the intense pain will eventually become stagnant and die.She fills her loneliness with wistfulness. Without happiness, loneliness will not be strongly felt and it works the other way round too. Its almost like - gloom and happiness feeds each other in an ongoing cycle through the channel of the mind. Really enjoying your work. This was a great rhyming piece.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much, Nilotpal... I'm grateful for the time you spent on reviewing this piece and for your encouraging feedback.
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