I DO NOT KNOW WHAT PAINS ME

I have a sorrow of my own,

It comes prominently when I stay alone,

It gives a feeling of something I am loosing,

And I cannot determine what it is that I am loosing,

This sorrow burns inside,

This sorrow robs mind,

This sorrow gives charring spines,

In multiple domains of heart and mind, 
And even in loneliness I do not feel comfort.

Its strangeness flames mind, red pain inside,

As if I do not possess something, a vital necessity, 

That needs more expanding love for sweet pink rose,
And it will touch my heart and I will be absorbed in it. 

Yet I cannot hold that one and cannot even touch,

And in my rocking solitude, also in my busy moments,
I feel absence of that entity, like repentant fire, 
That burns secretly in mind, the sorrow I feel always.

And I cannot remove it anyway on my own,

I do not know whether it is absence of love,

Or loss of demands from loved one, or loss of muse,

Or loss of sporting sensation, loss of unnoticed breathing, 
Of a model whom I draw in mind, never opened in surprise, 

And I have failed to touch the very charms of living, 

But for every season’s concern, I am alive to go forward.