When as a custom the night sweeps day aside,
Leaving me with nothing
But 
A thousand thoughts undefined.

Lying amidst the darkness
And
Striving hard to survive,
There has to be something
That must be keeping them alive.

A hope, a desire
A wish unfulfilled,
A dream, a fight
That is nothing
But a mist.

Falling for the devil’s pride
Keeping the goodness aside,
A soul is resurrecting
From the corpse
Burnt alive.


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1 comments:

    Tattooed Mind said...

    A pleasant read... Thoughts so deep... Loved it :)

  1. ... on 23 May 2013 at 14:32