I sometimes hate
The Anonymity
What life always holds?
In its folded hands
It reminded me of the
Storm preceded by serenity.
The brutality of the tempest
Bruised my spirit
I fought to stand tall
Despite the wounds
Oh! That feeling bit by bit
Destroyed my soul.
With the little soul left
Surprisingly, I am again on my foot
Prepared for the next
Devoid of fears.
No comments:
Post a Comment