#113 Tristitia

She sat there, a lonely girl,
Looking for her mother’s lap
To lie down again,
Her childhood framed, hanging on
The wall, locking her in her wish to be left alone.

The moon hung low,
Not oblivious to her loneliness,
She too forfeited her smile
To feel solidarity, and the numbing pain.
The friendly giants too, stood resolutely desolate.

Those empty black eyes transfixed
Outside the windows random lights scattered
Loud thunders bespoke of grim days,
But, nothing ever stayed. Her wait prolonged,
With every new song she learnt.

The street light shone woefully
Lighting up a lonely stretch,
Her home locked, the bell not rung in days,
Creepers come to cover her windows
Just as her heart had sadness weaving a blanket.