If asked to describe his life,
One word, "Arduous" would suffice.
On days like these,
Where work never ceased,
With his forehead all creased,
His will to fight decreased.
With the grip of strain so vice,
He didn't need to think twice,
For the pain he felt in his heart,
Would only melt if they hadn't been apart.
On days like these,
He hoped for fool's paradise.
As though she knew,
A waft of wind,
In his face, blew.
Sweet as honey,
Her voice cooed,
Just like that,
His strength renewed.
Days like these,
When he forgot to breathe,
One word from her
And his soul in desire, would meet...
YOU ARE READING
Alation
PoetryHighest Ranking in Poetry: #7 "The elegy of silence, The wailing of fate, The panache of death, The din of rage. Will quieten itself, Soon enough, someday."
