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!