The Aging Melancholy (Story of an Aged Man)


He says nothing
He says nothing but the melancholic pair of his deep brown eyes depicts the contusion of his heart,

He shows nothing
but his stained skin and the deep furrows shows how viciously he was torn apart.

The bruise on his feet, the scratches on his palms,
the blood on his sleeves, and his nodding stance,

The moroseness in his stare, the abhorrence for the hues,
an arduous spin of emotions, he connects to few.

The anguish over the defeat, few tears for his loss,
a sulking soul in the darkness, a gaze full of remorse,

His life, a sketch of gloominess & bliss, an agony of mirth,
an outburst of love, but solitary kept him strong within.

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