Emptiness is a feeling envied even by the scathe of a knife
But when it's been where you've been your whole life
It becomes your home and without it you feel lost
It is your only refuge, your friend and host.
Tonight like always, Abu dined as its guest of honor revering old injuries
Eating on dark thoughts and gulping down bitter memories
And at this table, he was alone save for the Lion's ghost
To whom he raised his goblet and proposed a toast
YOU ARE READING
Words of Swords
Historical FictionThe rain had felled its final drops Pulling the last of its liquid ropes Up the savannah and eloping away with the season Till it's next visit it crowns this kingdom barren Then a much awaited lover comes knocking at the sky's door And the land of I...
