An elegy on the death of my beautiful desire.

Sitting on the road of a crowded space;
Doing things that are out of place,
looking around for the playful look,
stared back by a treacherous crook.

Whispering in an attempt to protect my voice;
its wasteful with an overtime working noise;
beaming kids running with joy;
But my eyes fixed on an emotionless boy,
partner in this woeful times;

We both are victims of heinous crimes;
He,i heard had lost his father;
And i my beautiful desire,
different reasons but same effect;
wish i could be more bold,
Wish,my burning tears could be held;
trembling lips only murmur for true justice;
Insecure,Troubled,Stressed and haunted;
But the perfect words never crossed my mind;
because there was nothing in there...
Only you,My beautiful desire,
I am still sitting on that very old chair;
preparing a suitable epitaph;
But every time i complete it a new desire dies;
Irritated,Agitated,frustrated.
I again start writing;
but when will i stop;
No one knows?
or does someone.