Why in fond wanting, love flees me

And greets in content loneliness?

Frolics but steadfast not be;

Deserting me in wilderness?

In times abject, dormant it lies,

Buried in hearts' deepest mines;

When barely gleams mirth in the eyes,

Climbs up the walls like creeping vines.

Like proud kings that take on the throne,

In jest it slights me as if a pawn,

And rendering me solitary, alone,

Like fickle winds its lost and gone.

Why in Fond Wanting Love Flees Me

R.S. is a denizen of Delhi, India who writes Poetry to find harmony in life. She had fallen in love with versing during her days as a student of literature. She rises early to feel inspired with the morning star and create new rhymes.