MY SPRING IS STILL COLD

It’s Spring already                                                                                                   
But I don’t see colours
The landscape is white
The joy is shadowed
And bereft of love
It’s still biting winter

The springtime is here
But bereft of love                                                            
Its yellow is blanching
And in its still shadow
Time has remained
Frozen by a rigid frost

Where is the warmth?
Where did the love go?
Who stole colours?
Who betrayed my Spring?
Teasing me, from depths
The cheerful winter asks

Questions linger
Answers cry to deceive
Memories refuse to leave
Again in a Spring
Robbed of its beauty
Bereft of its love

In the season’s dew
Missing its yellow Hue
My Spring is still cold
And bereft of love
In the wintry dew
The air is now restless

©/IPR: Santosh Chaubey–https://santoshchaubey.wordpress.com/

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