Queen-of-night in bloom,
a lake holds our laughter still,
waterfall blushes.

How blue the iris grew.
How grey the clouds gathered.
As oak leaves wandered in the wind,
melancholia rushed through my vein.

How high the crows soar.
How loud the crickets chirped.
As windows slammed in the wind,
melancholia rushed through my vein.

How loftily the sky roars.
How quickly the gale moves.
As the willow whirled in the wind,
melancholia rushed through my vein.

How the birds hurry home.
How the plants await the rain.
As my eyes ambled around them,
melancholia rushed through my vein.

How the lightning flashed
and how the thunder crashed.
As i walk through my pale garden,
melancholia rushed through my vein.

How heavy my heart.
How dreary the scenery.
As the gods wept upon me,
melancholia rushed through my vein.

How it eclipse my tears.
How wholly it devoured me.
As i look upon my ephemeral life,
melancholia rushed through my vein.

Basking in the hazy dawn
staring at the dwindling moon.
Each passing second warmer than the previous.
The stars in the garden gently rise, tintless in the mist.
Surrounding as still as an isle in the ocean.
Soon at the demise of this silence
chaos of the chirping birds will prevail.
All these moments will permeate any heart with glee.
Then why is this heart drenched in sorrow
like the lines of an elegy?

Maybe its because witnessing the break of a new day
solidifies the yesterday that she let slip away
Maybe the roses in the mist appear gray
as an echo of her own bleak existence.
Maybe the silence irked a forlorn ego
her distorted mind kept at bay.
Maybe the blurry sight weighs her heart down
as it resembles the image of her future she pictured.
Maybe all these moments makes her ruminate
about the memories the merciless time marred.