Aching Blindness

Days have passed, from spring to an autumn.
But the unveiled landscape rests in the heart’s bottom.
Partial extinguished thirst, so long denied.
An appetite of colors, though, I hide.

Oh, I wish to behold the tranquil and twinkling sky.
The view of beauteous daybreak and the fickle butterfly.
I desire to savour the solitary walk near the lonely stream.
The lofty mountains and sumptuous waterfall only a shattered dream.
Oh, I could gaze the youthful moon hiding and smiling.
Exquisite blossoms are fluttering and communicating.

An inexperienced pleasure is the discarded wish.
My bosom is yearning for the justice.

Suddenly, a voice came from deep inside.
Do we see God’s existence?

Even then, I serve my maker with trust.
A perfect omniscient holds the mastery over the crust.
My faith for unseen power is pure.
So, the aching darkness, I would adore.

Inspired from: William Wordsworth and John Milton
(Combination of two ages: Romantic and Caroline age)


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