As I grew up,
I wus told -
that passion is in every soul.
there is a dream that is a mirror,
reflecting the feel of hearts interior.
And every individual has a reason,
to follow or abdicate their vision.
As the road travelled when dream is seeded,
is pain and pother giving speed receeded.
During the scented spring season,
within me sprouted a dazzling pompon.
Its realization made my heart bounce,
sacrifices and tough rebellion-
triggered its rhythm to become ounce.
Cold and nasty winters arrived,
flight of fancy exposed to certainty,
battered to morsels of morbidity,
crippling the intent of my life.
In the bed,with faded light,
slumber howls to materialize,
Somberness takes tears disguise,
Anguish reigned for endless nights.
O Wintry Winds! sing in-depth,
lay a chasm on my demise,
Every gust through leaves,
Say a lullaby.
Help me sleep,
and let me dream,
let me breathe,
Off from this world extreme.
