The lullaby of love
Lamenting lies smear their presence,
In the dreary desert. The desert
of hope in which love has lost its way.I
 yearn in the sanguine felony of the eternal stream,
To bow before the very eyes, to sit and pray.
The solstice of fall befalls warmth in its haling glory,

A season of broken vows, that sting humanity in its piercing glance,
Setting its fangs deep, the tales of unfulfilled dreams, in gallant themes,
Usher their presence in the lament of the looming winter.
Darkness in its plight uproars the silence of desolated cries,
In the tribulation of existence, light often loses its stance,

Death when it finds you, let it find you alive.
Mortality transcends its span, as death lays its icy hands,
I don't fear death, but bemoan the demise of the soul of those,
Who embraced the deathbed before death had a chance.

Winter, a season of yearnings, a season of vows,
To be or not be, is a question that still haunts the very core.
To be the light or not to be the hope, lamenting lies smear
Their presence in the dreary desert of hope.
I yearn to the eternal stream to sing the lullaby of love,
To kindle the warmth of the summer, alas that sings in me no more.

.    .    .