ROBBED

Away from books,
I do not know what to look,
With out thoughts,
My soul is drought,
Day was robbed,
Night was sobbed,
On a pillow,
By dawn I was low,
Tears soaked in the bed sheet,
Secrets were wrapped in flesh & meat,
Lost in my own land,
I was left like a sand,
Some other day I will come again,
For now how to tell my mourning brain,
Why it lament,
For what it torment.

https://www.stoho.in/wys/view/9487 can read the poem here on website.