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Stranger
I burnt myself inside out,
Neither the widowed winter nor the monsoon,
No one had the kindness I was thirsty for,
Tears dried in the terror of losing you,
Or I didn’t have any ever, might be
Reluctance warped me like a shroud wrapping the dead,
Am I dead?
No is the answer I know,
Yet feelings are not felt like before,
Everything around me is so ghastly,
Black is the color of death, feared yet liked,
Is death mean destruction or a new beginning,
Maybe, maybe not but the end is most certain,
As certain as my love,
Does love hold any meaning now,
He is the lonely stranger in your town, broke and lost.2 Comments-
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good to read..
Outstandingly impressive yet there are some verses you could have left incidental Para-breaks that would make it more shining… I suggest you to polish your verses just one more time with sweeter sounding synonyms where you feel so and a very silly grammatical accuracy is as well needed, dear poet… And finally at your last line the words should be “Broken and lost” as verbal adjectives… I’ve become spellbound truly with the verses…
“No one had the kindness I was thirsty for,
Tears dried in the terror of losing you,
Or I didn’t have any ever…”
Greeting and proud compassion dear poet… Love…