This is called Tragedy

Oh! Dear trepidation,
This temple of recouping
Has accepted my shadow
With the sinking Sun...
Satin reduced to a star
Ruling at one corner
Grounded by clouded solace
As visitors passed by....
The lane has felt my weight
Me begging budding mercy
In the name of Paradise
The plattered vivands of hell
Entrapps the coloured wings
Along lip's jocund necklace
Glistening on dawned visage
It is worthless being Junoesque
Bobbing away on mere ripples
Your memories dabble in the brook
Born out of my teared tears
Jester bears those sacred momets
Teeth biting off morning biscuits
I am an abducted mass of blood
As sweated soul in still burried
Hankering vantage is the advantage
Keeping the foolish flame alive
Fingers wander for those magical fingers
Sybaritic maiden sipping the chalice
I am amphora of flocculent fables
Appearance wipping off deception
Fellows sang me about longed life
Poisoned melodies sweetening prevailing maladies.....

This poem is about: 
Me

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