My eyes refused to cry..

Usually on to the top of the house
I crept during those summer nights
To taste the breeze blowing in fame.

For a while tried hard to sleep
But can't, so got to complete that
Which my pen began a week before.

Switched on the light on the top
And the night's innocence was driven.

Making circles a Moth flew
Towards the light's shine
It was a thing of beauty
And all the joy was mine.

I can't understand 'their' relation.
The creature rested and the time passed
How much ? I can't say.

After awhile, don't know how it happened
But my hands moved to touch the moth.

Feeling the sense of my finger
Again making circles, it disappeared.

Searched for its off-white wings
Designed in black lines,
But was of no use.

So frowning to my greedy deed
Slept on the laid out bed.

Woke up in the morning
Under me crushed I found it dead.

I felt sad,
But my eyes refused to shed a tear.

Simple it was,
Simple to them all that happened was
That my eyes refused to cry.