Gone Poem by Piyush Mishra

The eyes are shot as they embrace the bundle of memories of the old, years of tiredness inherited on his lids,
Tiny drops of tears dripping down the chins, with each drop comes the reflection of his struggled past,
His eyes bare the witness to his sins, incapable he is to let himself free, free from his disparate morals,
Scolding his nativity and the frail values he had worshiped, which brought nothing but this futility,
Each moment bringing him closer to death, with trembling hands he welcomes these moments of regression,
Desperate for another time, when he would be blessed with another soul carring a larger motive and some greater deeds,
Darkness has made its way to this old soul of the living, without an invitation it dared as we cannot ignore but give our way in,
The eyes are shut and will it be forever.