Nature's Melancholy Poem by Aparna cordelia

The wind whistled its own tune;
Echoing through hives, to birds that croon;
Evening sun was sinking in its watery grave;
Moon shyly peeped from its cloudy scrape;
Icy breath of silence covered the land;
And sails of a boat waiting for an errand;
Time is nature’s cruelest critic;
It closes its eyes over frozen unspoiled beauty like an ascetic;
Emotions stormed in my unmoving heart;
senses struck by god’s unparralled art;
this song of my soul stirred by this eternal hour;
its words washed ashore by seas oar’s;
a promise to the sea, to meet her again;
will I lose her in life’s vain? or a promise that’s feign;
my souls sail turmoiled by desire’s way;
to be swirled in love is hope of my day;