Wintry night sleeps carefree.
Quivering lips make a hole
in all shivering darkness,
The eyes search the face
that appears long disappeared
with the dusk of the light.
The hands get tired of groping
to touch nothing as such.
The heart gets sunken
while wandering around all alone
in the firmament of imagination
to feel some soulful presence
of my sweet nightingale
for her melodious strains.
Soul is lost yet happily embraced
with soothing solace
for I am sitting in her bower
of ever uplifting poetry
murmuring my melancholic note
to derive some joy in pain
for my grieving yet pining soul...
