Pain is the recipient of the amorous swarm of melancholy

Pain builds its fangs steady and steep,

In the truce of comfort, it sets its kingdom dubious and deep

For I have known the depths of darkness and the heights of its wings,

In its embrace, we sing and in its flight, we soar,

Alas, the summer of love that galloped and echoed sings in me no more.

For I believed that love doesn't hurt, it heals

The melancholy of the spirit robs and fills it with zeal.

But as I poured every ounce of my soul and every morsel of my heart,

I was shattered, torn to my core bit by bit, leaving no aspect of me apart.

The girl that loved with no ends now is building walls

To guard the spirit of thee, to brace the fall.

And in the darkness of doomed somberness, a light she can see.

For now, she believes in only her power, she got rid of the girl she used to be.

_Hridya