Vain

By Kirtiman Hazarika

There is a beauty in beholding.

The beholder gives no recompense,

To Beauty ignorant of withholding,

Her brilliance seen at no expense.

But what is the cost of that sight,

That emboldens Hope where none remains?

But to eke that ignorance in plight,

A wealth of woe that Beauty stains.

Her visage pains then Beholder,

Wrought with Pleasure that reclaims,

The price of seeing to scald and smoulder,

His blistering eyes with Her dancing flames.

Tis' a beauty in cold existence,

That loveliness succours in Pain,

To be returned in cold insistence,

To Love, but love in vain.

By Kirtiman Hazarika