Deceive questions the things that previously seemed to be true … and it is no less than a humiliation .
The hushing whisper of the windswept dry leaves,
the boisterous breeze vehemently deceives,
staring across, sitting by the window pane she grieves ,
tear drops roll down her cheeks and drops on her sleeves.
Months elapsed since that terrifying day,
autumn has set in and the leaves decay,
and so does my happiness which fails to stay,
life has nothing more to convey.
Flashbacks returned and she silently wept,
the laughter fading away into fifteen miles depth,
neither it was sorrow nor gloomy death,
but the agony of humiliation choked her breath.
The warmth of fondness that once embraced her hand,
shattered and disintegrated like castle of sand,
was it love at all? where did she stand?
For her this is indignity, all destined and preplanned.
Waves of flashbacks rushing and passing by,
as if a blast of air gushed in to loosen the tie,
she shut the window pane furiously with a sigh
why was this humiliation of love? she didn't know why?
_ debangee mandal
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