Hurting sharpnel

Some pictures,

wrapped in shawls of time

went on saying me something again.

Wounded my heart coldly;

and then put an ointment also

- to finally burying the longing it had once

What intriguing was that enigma;

one, which baffled me to leave it.

Heard someone have resolved it later on;

And I've absorbed this atrocity of life too.

Now only hurting shrapnel are left inside heart

- the last relic of my beloved’s heart!

Who I adored is not the holy God;

Or my myriads prayers are undeserving?

So this is how you didn’t ruffle yourself;

And we did never reunite;

I fear waste of my desolate life,

While musing over this thought.

Countless times I described it;

This entire world knows the solemnity of this.

But who knows lovely fort of love

had long before devastated!

And all the broken bricks,

are weighing heavily on my shoulders.