LAMENTATIONS

In the deafening silence,
Lamentations of the forlorn
Could be heard.

She let loose her auburn tresses
And the winds fiddled.

The moon beat down the stone,
The gleam though emanated 
From her cold, cold face.

Engulfed in a sorrow, 
Our eyes crossed to meet.

Helplessness unconcealed in dampness

Her robe fluttered to me...

There she stood- daintily

Elegance before my timid dignity.

Amid the roar of quiet, 
Nothing to be said
Just and only but to hear.

Her limbs reached 
Out to soak my tears.

I wanted to return the favour

But she rendered a comfort,
One that I couldn't leave.

My face in her cold, cold hands
Lost somewhere in an eternity

-Karan Ghosh