While walked through the deserts of lone,
I moistened, watered,
The drying "Love" rose,
With my tears of mourn -
Thousand years of drought
The oceans dried out - Glee or bliss,
All but lose, but lost
Not the endless thirst for amour's peace.
Drank thence I, from the fount of tears
To save this soul, quenched the toxic thirst,
Begotten from the absence of beloved, curst;
Saved me from the deathly doom and curse.
Under the burning sun, on the forsaken sand,
" Hail to Thee! Hail! " I sang
Extolled anguish in Melancholy's Land,
For Melancholia saved, with the very sip (of tears) I drank -
Hail, hail a thousand to thee, Melancholy
Queen of sacred tears, serene and holy,
This lovesick soul saved, owe to Thee
When it did not rain, thou offered the sea.
The poet is a student of English, Khilgaon Model University College