The sun shines with usual brightness
Spreading its warmth in every cold nook,
Yet it warms not my heart
When you are gone.
The calm river flows in serenely
Wind plays its game, creates beautiful ripples
But its beauty fails to appeal my eyes
When you are gone.
The passing wind sings songs of mirth
Whilst the leaves dance to its rhythm
Still the music soothes not my ears
When you are gone.
The things of beauty, those of joys
Makes me fonder naught;
Everything is embedded in strange emptiness
When you are gone.
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