Poetry – Adrija Mukherjee

The Winter Gloom

Along the drooping sun of the sombre dusk,
A walk through the woods was all I chose.
Amidst the green swaying to the chilly wind,
Did I chance upon the relics woe be gone,
I had passed by so many times.
Never did it attract me,
But today. I wonder,
How great it looked when it hosted its grandeur.
The pride it took,
In hiding away to-be crowned princes.
The valour it had,in it resided a life.
Now it lies no more than a ruin.
Damn the fate of destiny!!
Such that it stands in the gloom of the wood,
All bereft and forlorn.
But I wonder why,
Never did it attract me, but today.
Was it it’s majesty, or
The melancholy itself?
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