My wandering soul is still searching,
for the muse who has left.
It has lost all taste of life,
breathing is just by chance.
Who would have thought a messenger’s absence,
can do this all.
Muse has made this soul worth living,
but now it is worst than a dead carcass.
It used to smile in every moment,
but now this business has shut down.
Where to move now,
no living thing is left inside.
It is hard to live a soul-less life,
muse please return-on my merciful call.
Your presence was like divine,
I might stop being an atheist with your coming.
When I said this,
that living without you will be easy.
Traces of courage still emerge,
whenever your name is announced.
Alas! this is just a murmuring call,
hope it reaches your door.
Why it is that I am still afraid,
haven’t heard any reversing sound.
Echoes of your inspirational quotes,
still makes an unearthly roar.
Hope I leave the sensuous aid,
to understand your secret speech.
Which is far beyond intellect,
but it is enough to encourage my soul.
There I look upon the darkest path,
hinges of light appear without fall.
They still cajole me to wait and watch,
as if some miracle will strike for me.
Whose shadow is this now visible,
O, yes this is my muse, calling my soul to rejoice once again.