Category : Poems

Sub Category : N/A

Let her sleep deep,
From here, she can't ween how weary it could be,
Albeit, she, at the river she would like to cross,
Ain't ordinary being! A fighter to behold.

Let us not weep,
Without regret, she is a life devotee,
Completely, what she hold on to be true are gloss,
The heroine in her, make her stand not to be controlled.

For she is at her journey's end,
Just as a pregnant woman on her knee,
Moreso, where she ought to be a boss,
However, she was made to crawl in cold.

Left with no memories to mend,
Swimming through her journal, she wasn't prepared to flee
Though, she was seen as a dross
Fortunately, she came out refined like gold.

©presh