A Mystery.....



It's a mystery, and forever shall be,
how an entombed twinge can loom,
from deepest depths of the heart that can be,

 When for no ostensible reason,
the eyes become dewy,
marking the onset of soul's rainy season,

 A crippled heart isn't slave to any teary cloud,
all it needs is a drop of reminiscences,
and a flood tears apart the pretension's shroud,

 And so the words come to rescue,
with the cape of ink,
and the soul is scattered impromptu,

 All barriers lay crippled and crumbling,
by the torrent of ceaseless verses,
but the soul stays famished, wailing and mumbling........

 (c) S.S

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