The Winter Within

Nothing is able to erase the wound
Left over years ago.
What left behind are all frozen emotions
And stale reminder.

The lively moments flicker off and on
Chasing memory.
Should I turn the clock and rectify
All off beam actions.

Efforts were made but proved wrong
It’s all wastage.
To map the routine, the usual sin runs
Through cold blood.

So much to do, so little the gain
Time to move on.
But hands shaken, legs totter in
The winter within.

Gopal Lahiri