Happenstance, my resentful muse appeared in front of me,
in a bleak and bitter night
to mourn over the death of my feelings.
and, I standing over the edge of a cliff
a snowy cliff
I was not alone,
my feelings were by my side.
my feelings which are
half parched, half shriveled
and I began to strip those feelings furthermore
so they can be heaped
and I can exhume them for good in the fire within.
the sullen muse smiled apathetically; Ironically my lips curved too
as we both knew each other.
And, the night was astonished to see us smiling.
and I took my confidant, it read.
The coldness within is far colder than
the snows; you might meet soon your beloved at the dawn
but that dawn never ever came to knock the closed doors
of my heart.
my heart like a cloak
has encompassed my being
and it knows
what they call LOVE
LOVE IS NOTHING BUT AN ILLUSION.
as relationships are always
a gamble, merely a prediction
which by the times turns into
a dessert.
and the dust of time
makes is barren
more barren by each passing moment.
Night, by then was about to bid adieu
and it stopped just for a while
to say
your disclaimed existence is not a song
it is a lullaby of your soul
which is in a deep slumber
and I along with dawn shall make you love again.
it is a promise to you.
And, that promise is even today remains a promise
unfulfilled promise.

© Jayant Kumar Sheen