Weal or Woe

Ah, the bear of solitude.
To hell thy clutches sans gratitude
Once, thy embrace how did I Yearn
But only to remain the picture on the urn

While all the world sleeps
Ha! the burning candle of my heart
Lingering down the mountain sleeps
How do you puff and pant

When you creep down to ashes
The moon of me too diminishes
But this garb of grace, the gift
With which you enveloped
Gives me the power
To remain ever.