Breathless as the sun succumbs
To the clouds, wind
Winding in to play This game of charades –
Dry, her throat is dry from pleading
Almost close to believing.
The truth of the misery remains, seems
That hope resides in the land faraway.
Yet, wake up
From the muddled place
Where demons haunt and
Ghosts of the past stay.
With blood and bruises
In mind and body, bid
Goodbye, goodbye to the wreck they made.
It’s the sandy ride to the paradise bay,
When all hope is lost –
Show yourself ‘Look
What I’m made
Seems so far
Along, make it stop –
The bruises are just a reminder
To how strong you are.
So bid goodbye to the forlon days,
And welcome yourself into your heart and stay.
Author’s Note: Dedicated to everyone who is going through a struggle.