Broken soul

Broken is the spirit

Too much to sort

Strewn all around

pieces of unrest

Dark alleys and shadows

of the past

Peeping hurdles

from the doors, half closed and worn

Teary eyed

are the dreams

No matter

how much I clean

Blood stains appear

and adorn this robe of mine

Droplets clinging to the edge

Disappearing in the shine

Of every challenge,

thrown my way

In despair or dismay

I have taken charge

Little did I know

Deceit and betrayal

Were prepared and ready

to barge

Doors that I kept open

for the entourage

Are not to be found anywhere

but cemented and grilled walls

The warrior refuses to withdraw

Logic pulls him hard

Free soul has been my cry

Since the very start

A light breeze, ruffles the hair

There is more to this chaos now

My ship has lost balance a million times

Yet I chose not to bow

I do not know

How and when

This fire would burn me down

Each day I pick my

own battle

Of my destiny I am the clown.



You cannot copy content of this page
%d bloggers like this: