Purge of my fate

Shyam Nair

27 May, 2013 02:46 PM
My abode a faultline,
Distortion so Sublime
Fates’ a joke, far beyond
A fine generic poke 

Days’ of rue, things of past,
Am a part of spell cast,
Scars and burns are just a serve
Food and fodder to think ahead of curve

Time’s  a learn  a mold
Cards of mine packed and sold
Luck for me a lame ruse
Birth itself an act of truce

Hand of her to be held,
Brag of success under your belt
Thought’s of her Burden of blame
Recitals of which remind me of sorrow and shame
Tags: Fate, Life, Lost, Dark Soul
Next Poem >>


Post a Comment
No comments yet! Be the first
Your Comment

Do not post other site's link, it will be considered as spam