In Ruins

In Ruins short poem

Walking along this isolated path again,
Treading heavily on those pavements once more;
The Eternal Stream has had it slain.
The rocks and pebbles have withered away along this shore.

In ruins,are those hamlets far away.
Desolated are those fields which once were of a lush green hue.
Even the trees have discarded their ephemeral sway;
They live on,yet,and further seek to pursue.

The eyes,filled to the brim,with sorrow and despair,
Cast glances from under the veil of tears.
Across the path,into the horizon,chanting an eternal prayer,
Not to make it true-the loss and the existent fears.

Those marble monuments are lost,into oblivion.
The overarching pillars have broken down;
Ruining the entire construction,thus,marring my vision.
That Stream has washed it,and with it have all the fragments flown.

The aura of the place has died down;that spot of beauty is lost.
I stand amidst this isolation;In search of that Paradise.
Looking for that which I yearn the most.
Alas!But,nature condoles me on their demise.

The aching joys,of the days already spent,
Along that bank of the river,
For my errings of the long lost past,make me repent.
Once again the hope of finding them dies down;that flame does flicker.

And as I leave behind the place,
The cries and wails of those people still resonate;
Great paths do they trace!

Rate the poem
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (1 votes, average: 3.00 out of 5)
We are posting your rating...

Have something to say about the poem?



Signup / Login to follow the poet.
I am student and my passions are ever directed towards the literary front. I love rhymes and do not love them,too! I want people to derive joy from all kinds of rhymes as well as free verse... hence, I write in both... Hope you'll enjoy these pieces of absurdities!
Poems you will love

Give your feedback / review for the poem

1 Comment on "In Ruins"

Notify of
Sort by:   newest | oldest
Editorial Board

@mekhala chattopadhyay with whta skill you weave a picture for us, of what once was resplendent and alive and now lies IN RUINS..Beautiful!



Ruins short poem

Of all the songs I never wrote only the trash remains. Memories of a yellow room the morning after, A foggy winter Delhi high a disarray of rooftops and some garbled music; An orange coffee cup, A piece of sky