Every Fake Smile Carry Miles of Forsaken Tales
Hearkening to community's notion,
confines himself to violent commotion;
Mumbling as though striken by demotion,
stumbles to fathom out his emotion;
Hence, rumbles to drink an energy potion,
which could empower him to submerge in devotion.
Sailing upon the journey of solitude,
embraces the high altitude;
Possessing the mental fortitude,
counters the disputes with great magnitude;
Masking the rage through aptitude,
He shrinks bitter attitude~
for squeezing out some warm gratitude.
Wildly swimming into the tunnels of dark hollow,
he persistently pleads for lamp light to follow;
( swish... swoosh... whoosh..)
Oh Great, looking out for her companion
appears the angel of destiny!
She browses & scans to spot his brow:
bandaged with thorns of sorrow.
At once approaches him with an aim to borrow
Tiny little golden finger traces his forehead furrow,
Eyes offer him illusioned syrup to swallow,
assuring that his woes would not exist up to morrow.
Then, rapidly brushing the needles of pain aside;
She promises to stay beside~
alerts him to no longer bide,
demands him to confront the tide,
comforts him to go down the slide,
For which, he earnestly tries to abide
by relishing the deep glide,
treasure hunts his lost poetry pride,
which later becomes his daily ride.
Travelling in it he feels cured and satisfied!
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