Friday, March 11, 2011

The king of melancholia.

Wrote this one several months back.

Oh you! The king of melancholia,
Why do your lips never twitch upwards?
You, who never fail to frown.
Since ages you have been aged,
Youth has never been your friend.
But why do you come in my dreams?
Why do I always find myself in your shrine?
Wearing your cloak day and night,
I save myself from the burn of light.
Strange comfort your heaviness gives,
Away from the mundane blithe.
Besotted by the beguiler,
I relish my days getting blacker.
To your kingdom I always retreat
Escaping questions in the eyes I meet.
With you I fade into the background,
Far from those maddening sounds.

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