Melancholy

Melancholy




Melancholy..
Though angelic balm of Humble numbness...
Thou, the messenger of a free world..
An unnoticed trance..
Thou art away..
Far away from
The tears of a simulated semblance
Thy hands are long
O loving sister
Thou art made of a blunt assurance....

It is easy to feel thee...
In the caves of barren hills..
It is a pleasure to trace thee
When compassion is burnt in grills.
When love is smashed in a mortar
Thou play havoc..
Wnen a damsel is repudiated
Thou maketh epoch..
Thou playth a sneezer..
Both in a snowy touch
And a hazzy summer..

Thou looketh beautiful
On the tortured screen of
A changing globe..
Thou provest effective
Over the bosom of a captured probe..
In the hoary gesture of an aged autumn
Thou art manifested..
In the August chest of a roasted horizon
Thou art tested...

By Satchidananda Mishra...