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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