Wednesday, September 13, 2006

ScRaMbLeS

I was the one who has been long in the city pent,
Life in days years and month it spent.
Over materials and matter there was a reef,
Vacant sometimes, emotions at others the heart plead.
Everyday fighting with my own attic to survive,
Usual days and the struggle to keep the spirits alive.
Pestering the soul with hopes to revive,
Reliving the past kindling the old delight,
Imagining the victory of self over thy might.
Yearning from past filling roars in shambles,
Another meek spectator ready to face world's scramble.

Posted by Prats at 8:05 PM