I can't help but wonder..
A heart as broken as his,
No wonder, roars for all the world to surrender.
What pain must he be in,
What battle is he to win,
What conflict is he to resolve,
Where does he let his anguish dissolve?
I can only imagine how hard it must be,
For, all he does is rumble and plea.
How selfless is he,
His miseries make him wail,
Which in turn fills every vessel, fills every pail.
A mighty striped bow, might sometimes bloom
Depriving him of his melancholic gloom..
Oh how I wish, I could turn that frown,
Into a sweet little smile, by tilting it upside down..
I don't know the grief, I don't know the cause
All I know is that I mourn for his loss.
To wish for his happiness, seems bizarre
Because without his tears, perished we are.
© 2019 Priya Dinesh