Broken Picture

When all that matters
Is nothing at all,
But the broken picture
Hanging on my wall,
I won't shed my only tears.
My mind is tired, yet
It longs to dream
Of the soft glow of joy,
With it's subtle gleam.
My dreams shelter all my fears.
These very dreams, my heart endears.

It stares at me still,
Forsaking my reasons.
What once held me in joy,
Now spurns me in treason.
I hear my past's only call.
But a memory no more,
It is a mirage to find,
As a burden upon
My longing mortal mind.
It taunts me with me silent fall -
This broken picture hanging on my wall.

By,
Nikhil Menon