I searched for the mystical maiden moon,
That sunk into a sub-aqueous slumber at noon.
As I felt unescorted like a lone light travelling,
My company seeking eyes continued exploring.
I could see the furious clouds but the moon wasn't seen,
My sentiments shivered and smashed into smithereens.
The vault of heaven clutched big bolts of lightning,
Amid thunder and hailstorms that were frightening!
The rain-clouds rushed and my eyes caught a sight,
It was a silvery white curve crying in its plight.
With clouds gliding over, making it hard to see,
It hung there fragile, as feverish as me.
I kept gazing; disheartened and quiescent,
I really like this poem, although it makes me sad. Good one!
ReplyDeleteEnjoyed the heavenly realms of sky, deep and moody feelings described so poetically.
ReplyDeleteVery nice!