We all have a person or more in our life for whom we have a lot of respect for. No matter what the reason is, we look at things/life from their perspective and try to feel 'em, to connect on a way deeper level. In a way, their problems and pain becomes ours. A very pure form of human nature. The poem is basically about this and how much someone's life can be influenced by someone else's who has no direct means of contact with that very someone. And how humane we can be in pain and empathy.

A LOST SERENADE

There was this maiden,

So very full of compassion.

Always walkin’ through the ruins,

A once fabricated story.

 

Diving into the complexions of our world,

Falsifying the delusional beings.

Revivin’ mercy upon we,

Dissevering thy hellish dread.

 

Keeping from these unsymmetrical cobwebs,

Of carnal greed and mortal symptoms.

Groping among the shadows of past,

The crux for her solitary solemn.

 

No beauty can exist without pain,

A latent bliss in the winds of plague.

The only stone of her empathy,

Keeps it between the breeze and flame.

 

Ages spent in this forsaken land,

Waiting on his sky-fallen gleam.

I see no rainin’ divinty,

For the purest form of humanity.

 

Why would an angel fall from grace,

And still be lost within your name?

Why won’t you be the one you claim,

And rekindle the love that gave you place?

 

Maybe the mind, yet too weak;

To understand thine crooked ways.

For halo seems a distant dream,

From what we are as mortal beings.

 

Oh! Snow-white innocence, the mother of all.

Pleae lift aloft your scale and condemn this sin;

For take my prayers go unanswered,

But let this child hear a beautiful serenade.

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