'Le Claire de Lune'
Burning roses with some petals fall,
It was dark blood on the wall,
"Bow to the King",they called,
Even his Majesty looked dull.
The colour of roses started to fade,
It turned black,the colour they hate,
They threw stones at the place he sat,
But never they know the thing he faced.
He lost his pride and also his Queen,
He started to break and feeling so low,
They said,"He's the worst one that we've ever seen,"
But never they care the thing he ate and swallowed.
He claimed he's fine with a termendous grin,
But people can see he lost like a kite,
He covered his lies with the scent of mint,
When reality took all his and innocently hide.
His eyes are grey,just like his dream,
His sight began to blank and getting blurry,
He lost his path that made his ship sinked,
He's not guilty but giving the apology.
He's drowning in the sight of her eyes,
He has to choose between life and death,
When the moonlight showered him that night,
He knew it was his very last breath.
tamat.
-2019
