The Melancholy Spirit

Dry monsoon, flowerless spring,

leafless falls, and windless winter,

I have seen it all.

But now I am cursed 

with lifeless lines and charmless words,

my metaphors have abandoned me.
Meanings are becoming obnoxious

and ideas are thoughtless.

No subtle hint of rhymes

and no sign of similes.

The pen filled with ink now bleeds red.

The little bird of hope and happiness

that once inspired magniloquence

is now flying away with its brood.

I wanted to fly with the wind

and drench in the drizzle.

But now the storm

haunts me from deep inside.

A light that the halcyon lit

is now ensconcing to darkness

to which it was once entwined before.

The tapestry of dreams,

grey in shade, but take away

the bright weft and

it is gonna be night again.

A perpetual night with petrified

nightmares and eternal agony.

Please save me before I fall again,

please save me before I drown again.

My mind was once cold.

It had only begun to feel warmth.
Save me from those

eternal winters and infinite stillness.