Through blood toil and tears,
Dark husk and fears
Moved the charioteer....
Carrying the soul in me,
Which always wanted to be Free,
Just attached by one string... She.
Yes, he was gone,
Gone forever,
Never to return ever....
And with dull faces and reflected glories they parted,
Yet, distance failed to break the small string.
Afterall, this time, she remembered him in the war medal which came with the martyr's body....
"Always" said she.
YOU ARE READING
Deplorable plight
شِعرAm a dreamer and not only me but my words also love to dream. I love to write and it seems that my words are always in a deplorable plight. They are always rough gutsy raw and come straight from inside without any 'beautification' on them. HOPE you...
