THE MOON
 nestled,
 In the lap of ,
 The motherly sky,
 Appears like,
 A wistful expression,
 Peering from,
 The veil,
 Of some widow.

  THE STARS,
 Like,
 Helpless witnesses,
 Just looking on,
 Mute onlookers,
 Pondering,
 Deep in thoughts.

  THE CLOUDS,
 Full of gloom,
 Are motionless,
 And emotionless,
 As if,
 They are a part,
 Of a funeral procession,

  THE HEART,
 Wounded, 
 Screams in agony,
 Singing in remorse,
 Some tragic sonnata,
 To the tune of,
 Despaired Wails. 

  THE WORLD,
 Is transformed,
 In a worthless,
 Thoughtless entity,
 Which has disowned,
 Disclaimed,
 Me to suffer,
 In the desert of sorrow.

  THE TEARS,
 Flowing in torrents,
 Have become,
 The destiny, 
 To be endured,
 Till eternity.  

  THE LIFE,
 Having lost,
 It's lustre,
 Is now just,
 A voyage,
 Of sadness,
 And pains.

  THE WINDS,
 Trying to console me,
 Are ignorant,
 Of my destiny,
 Consisting,
 Living to suffer. 

  THE SORROW,
 Like a jasmine,
 Is in Bloom,
 Adorning,
 Enhancing,
 Your lingering memory.

  THE DREAMS,
 Are distorted,
 Unrecognisable,
 Fleeting love,
 Has daringly,
 Robbed my happiness.

THE LOVE,
 Lost,
 has become,
 A wound deep,
 And I,
 A subject of pity..........................

~Shashwat~