Loneliness
Loneliness
An empty place for the sake of silence
Goes evacuated for the thoughts to grow
Those furniture which used to moan quiet
How shrieky and noisy it has become
Like a jug of jolly is poured over
Which I used to have filled with joyous memories
Seems as if a flame has blackened it all
Gazing at the vile man across the street
I sense the vibes of the miseries rather sweet
From the aft, to the approaching dawn of my span
Now merry with the quiet sounds
For minor of the life is to be spent
Making peace with the deaf of the empty place
Waking up to that similar darkness
Which in turn is uncertain to grow awake.