WALKS IN THE DARK

He is a walker who walks in the dark,
For him things are subtle and stark,
They tell him their griefs and sorrows,
Realising never that he has no morrow,
To them he appears calm and clear,
Yet deep inside him lurks a fear,
An unknown feeling an unquenched desire,
Consumes him slowly like licking flames of fire,
And thats why he bears the ,
Of a walker who walks in the dark.


The dark sky opens but stars are not there,
It looks fearful like a wolf's lair,
The moon does appears in silvery sharpness,
But only to bring out the vast emptiness,
The wind howls in a shaky silence,
Yet it fails to break the trance,
And there stands a castle crumbling,
Its turrets falling and gates shaking,
He passes silently below the mournful arch,
For he is a walker who walks in the dark.


He pauses and wishes to share his life,
But their indifference pierces him like a knife,
He reaches castle and looks for shade,
But it cant shield him from wind's rage,
The land is lonely still lonely is his heart,
Apathy and coldness tear it apart,
For him there is no joy or singing lark,
For he is a walker who walks in the dark.