Pains have become personal

a poem by Sundar

My love, how long would you make me wail?
while here, I pass thru’ ridges without a rail.

Wander, I, the valleys, like a typical nomad
louder, I sing, to you, my everlasting ballad
unwary of it’s possibility to reach you
give away, I, even my visibility, to see you.

Having spent years, tears & fears
still dream for a heaven, to call ours
knowing well I’m torturing myself to no end
dreams, sometimes come true, at least to mend.

Day in & out, I counter, storms of acid rains
nevertheless , trying to erase the stains
caused to my heart, of ceaseless pains.

Even though my pains have become so personal
you keep searching for an arsenal.

In my garden, always, flower do bloom
knowing well, their world is so gloom
it’s strange that they never wish to escape
or, don’t they find a better landscape?

Dear, I doubt whether you wish to be by my side?
fear, I never, that my love would subside.

Baby, counting scores, I’m nearing a century
if so goes my days, I might end up in a sanctuary.

Here, I shiver all seasons
exposed to winter treasons
patiently, I, wait for the winter sun
with mass of moss and hopes nearly shun.

Knew well that we don’t need each other
even to understand this, you never did bother.

Only noise could be recorded and called history
never anyone’s emotions and it’s chemistry.
love, nowadays misconstrued for biological instinct
arguments, I hear, from people, that it’s extinct.

wish, at least, your love for him and mine for you doesn’t fail!