Sunday, January 17, 2021

Depression


Depressed she was,
Hearing a lost buzz:
Of her soul,
Thinking about her last goal,
Diving into a deep sea of tear,
Without finding a reason there;
She carried a burning heart,
Which was wounded with a dart.
Her words were choked
And the ears too blocked.
And her soul  filled with blood,
Laid her in the bloody mud.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Who ?

Who decides her happiness, if not the moment she dares to rise? Who shapes her fate, if not the strength behind her smile? Who defines her f...