Hot rays of sun no longer mattered.

About biting cold he never bothered.

Drenched in rain he would walk.

To himself he would talk.

He had gone crazy.

Her image in his mind was growing hazy.

Every day and every night he would place a rose.

To die, why did she choose?

On her grave he planted a kiss.

 His tears never dried or become less.

He called himself, a coward.

To live, he is finding very hard.

What to do with this life?

It has no meaning without wife.

Her love’s vacuum he is unable to fill.

Its absence is out to kill.

Living holds no meaning to him.

Death is not happy with him.

Suicide, he does not want.

His wife would never accept!

 He is awaiting her invitation.

It will arrive very soon is his intuition.

Separation, she always dreaded this word.

Up in the sky, she would be fluttering like a lost bird.

Their marital life was sheer bliss.

Fifty years of companionship, she too would miss.

She will give him a green signal to leave.

From this grief, only she can relieve.

Till then, her grave he will hold on to.

This is the best he can do.