In the Dark of Grave

I am buried in your thoughts

deep inside the dark.

Your memories seethe my views of blur,

I make myself strong, though at seldom.

My days become the grey you loved.

Will my soul dig out someday

as my body went?

Erratic way, days take me through.

Sure, its the erratum god made

while printing my fate.

Both yard and stone cries,

You know why?

Gravestone cries on seeing you pass by,

Graveyard does of not even catching 

the glimpse of your figure.

I grapple with my soul to

self-bury its nature of thinking you.

Senility, an expected gift from god 

to my soul.

May this darkness prove my desire 

of shade for comfort.

With dagger of love and haunted memories,

I stay in this shade of pale.