All alone, I stand in the deserted room,
Where once happy memories did bloom…

Wasn’t it just one day before,
That this room, a surplus of joy did store…?

But now, it’s a desolute rock,
All essence of life it does block…

Gloom and melancholy fills the area,
The whole place struck by disaster’s mafia…

Maybe it was like this all along, but to it I was immune,
When the effects of “love” made me swoon…

For I really was in romantic bliss,
Just before my life ended up like this…

Maybe I was just fooling myself all along,
Maybe from the start itself I was wrong…

But it made me happy, and the room colourful,
And every day was satisfyingly eventful…

But then it all just went away,
Like good things were never meant to stay…

Maybe “love” was just using me,
Before throwing me into a destitute sea…

Maybe, maybe it wasn’t love at all,
But just my lonely heart’s call…

Maybe I just assumed everything that was happening,
Was “love” that into my life happiness was bringing…

Well, it doesn’t matter what may be the cause,
For there is nothing else to cause me loss…

I am, after all, living in an empty room,
Devoid of everything except sorrow and gloom…

Over which “love” painted fake colours,
That washed away along with my tears…

But im fine now, with this existence,
Where nothing else can be a grievance…

So, I stare into this empty room.
Which is in fact my heart where only darkness does bloom…