Drops Of Melancholy

Sorrow is a world,

Where the brightest of flowers

Fades away,

And there is no contrast,

Between the dark and day.

The birds forget

To flap their wings,

And chirp heavenly as well,

And the brightest full moon,

Hides regrettably behind a veil.

The buds forget to bloom,

And to metamorphose to a heap of love,

They forget their beauty,

And peace of a dove.

A handful of depression,

And a spoon of distress,

Salted by anger,

A pinch of revenge fresh.

Sorrow is a nasty thing....

Inspiration to move

Forward to cliff,

It never does matter if your

Tongue's dry or legs' stiff.

You have the thirst,

To fight, not sustain,

To escape sorrow,

You even climb a mountain.

A desert of loneliness,

With a long stretch of sand,

Emerges a crave, a thirst,

To reach the highland.

A source of hope,

And mother of strong will,

After the passing of it,

A beautiful world you feel.

Sorrow is an excellent thing....

Life's a canyon,

Don't stop at every pit,

Awaiting is your success, every hour, every minute.

Sorrow is just a masquerade,

To enjoy the sweet and sour taste of life....