Unable to understand these feelings inside, Not being able to completely hide, The wind of incertitude flowing around, None of the answers seem to be found Walking past the graveyard of thoughts, Trying to pick out lost words, In this moment of poetic drought, Looking up to the freedom of birds With no limits beyond the sky, Where everything's too good a lie, He opens his eyes to the future beyond, Working towards a new dawn Hopeful of joyful times ahead, An end to these gloomy days, Throughout the journey the innocent bled, As the fiends always found their way Uncertain of what the future beholds, Yet eager to work his way through, Like the sunflower, his vision unfolds, As the clouds of poetic drought bid adie u
By Ken Ahuja