Language of tears.

Death doesn't put an end to Love.

-If Only.

Crashed down.Dazed and confused-
vision of joy blurred and obscured

What is the cure? For I’m not physically wounded

But lost my soul in a maze, it lies in a pandemonium of dread

The mind is obliterating memories, Or itself, is it losing?

The heart is pumping blood, Or itself, is it bleeding?

Nostalgia is a bittersweet feeling, it tells tales-

Of every picture holding your infinitesimal details

But there will be no new memories, for into an oblivion you’ve vanished

It leaves in me an infinity, where all the light is banished

Every teardrop of mine is a deep ocean of melancholy

And I swim through it to reach an illusion of you, blindly

Imagining the shore where you stand and where itself happiness seats

I reminisce the myriad moments of our harmonious heartbeats  

With every happy thought I seem to punish myself more

In every thought, lies the sound of your laughter as its core

I hope it’s a dirge to my own existence,to which I persistently hear

In that laughter I smile but it’s accompanied by a bereaving tear

It trickles clasping you forlornly

It drops remembering you wistfully

Holding my mind as a quill, it phrases

Marking my soul with a stain, it punctuates

Helplessly, they run down,they flood.more of them-

And,in their tearful language, they pen a poignant poem.