its dawn at my grim window,
and my eyes searched the door,
dreams are still unanswered,
but i m still waiting,
waiting in the dark!
do u still believe in miracles?
and wait for the touch f the wand,
or t secrets held by a calloused hand,
but i m still holding,
holding the belief in the chant!
the beauty of stars is ethereal,
and heaven so surreal,
sounds of seraph echoes the misty hall,
but i m still moving,
moving away to a forlorn land!
And when light will be pure n white,
and swan will not sing,
the flowers will greet my words,
but i will still be searching,
searching for impunity from my sins!
and till then the smiles will be fake,
and glamor will expel,
love will be a liar in black,
and i still be a beholder,
beholder of my deeds and swords!
1 comment:
The coming out of the dark and being a witness to light of betterment is a typically special emotion of people on the artistic side. You have expressed the same here, I feel and in an effective way.
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