M elancholia is the word for my life E very desire and will is lost to further thrive L ost is everything that once belonged to me A pathy is all I have after Thee N o trust resides in me for my fate C horus of curses, is what, I no longer hate H ope in me has long since died O h! There is no one who can guide, L ast, I long to reach the death’s gate, I have lost all vigour, to further hope and thrive A t last, Melancholia is the word for my life.
I am a random boy of 15 from the land of India, my motherland, of which I am proud of. I am an avid reader of books or or in a nutshell I am a bibliophile. Because one advice is common by everyone, "Read, read and read" and also"A room without books, is a life without soul"Anything that I like are my studies and ofcourse literature. I have no interest in other things, which people call recreation. Ya, I love songs, but not singing(For the sake of other people).I also like to hear inspirational songs, because it is a means to propel my life further. Another means, of inspiration for me are poetry by legendary poets of English. I would like to share a poetry by the epic poet Robert Frost. I remember this poem by heart,"Whose woods these are I think I know. His house is in the village, though; He will not see me stopping here To watch his woods fill up with snow.My little horse must think it queer To stop without a farmhouse near Between the woods and frozen lake The darkest evening of the year.He gives his harness bells a shake To ask if there is some mistake. The only other sound's the sweep Of easy wind and downy flake.The woods are lovely, dark, and deep, But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep. "