The word "Love" is as dry as funeral drum and smells like funeral pyre.........

Nameless

Day after day and night after night,
I pretended to be so right.
Sometimes amidst a gloomy idle day
I feel the shades of grey,
That creeps into my life;
And robe me off all of my vibes.
I stride down with a blurred vision;
Catching up the dash of crimson,
Diffused all over the sky-
And I am left with an overwhelming sigh!
I pace slowly,languidly through the shadows
Of my room and peep through the glass windows-
The nature outside resides in a dour mood;
With grey clouds floating all aorund.
Time ticks away,a gloomy passes into a tired mind;
And the shadows fade into the shades of night.