Hungry was the street
Lying before me
Thirsty was the soul
Helping guiding me.

Unwired Dickensian slum
smiling nearby
On low tune satire
Whispered- ‘love kills and heals’.

My legs bewildered,
My sense unnerved,
My head stooped,
Yet, my thirsty soul guided me.

My legs had to reach me
To far woods
To kiss the grave of my other-half
And let her know-her lost son found.

Alas! I met her
With, all skeleton scattered
Grave broken and torn
And the wedding ring stolen.

RUP POKHAREL

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/love-stolen/