Author: Harpreet Chhachhia

I see with all the windows closed.
I see the outside world alone.
I feel its pain, torment and grief –
Within its arms I, too, do mourn.

The night is dark as is its wont,
The stars are dead behind the mist,
The blooms have withered long ago,
To never ‘gain be seen or kissed.

I see the Girl, I feel her pain –
In hues of blood just like the rose,
That now is burned and turned to ash
And rapes the wind in silent throes.

The moon is black before the sun
Its ring of fire can’t kill the gloom,
Which pervades all on earth and air,
And seals the world for death and doom.

And though I spy no light or laugh,
Scattering this darkness caused by tears,
This scared world and she wait in hope,
To seize the dawn if it appears.

20th July
edited 16th Feb 98