I
For the clay, a cold and swoony theme,
It owns a remember'd wreath's sadly way,
As if in rolling tears they passing them.
O' rest in,the void and empty's languid may.
You being's so closer god,an echo yet sad,
For mortal days,or as in my wretch's soul?
Favor's in deepest pain,the mourning bird,
Of doom's and ceased ways of illness hurl-
Reach her night's airy height,a village,its truth lost!







II
Where the shadow of the scene,in last eyes
While white the clouds wept for sullen all white
You are in dew,the sharp,when crystal loss,
Melt the name in rapid fire,while are wilt.
come and perish, life to death in its trot,
kind of precious pearly halo it works taint.
Roll to mine sorrow,you enatic root'
The unseen fly that flies in radar height;
To meet her in pillowy roost,is now dream that waste!









Nithin Purple.