The Wind In Me Poem by DASHARATH NAIK

The wind in me has stopped whistling
to boost my tired mind;
its caressing touch now tortures
like stings of bee
suprisingly.

Oblivious of its aura and aroma,
it has distracted mine
in the smile of darkness, , ,
it moans and cries piteously
and like a mirror
reflects my dejected life
awfully.

With its loss of charm and charisma
groaning in utter pain
and in abyss of her absence
like a scarecrow
me stand alive but dead
soulfully.

©® Dasharath Naik