Overlayed by the sheets of tears, i stood
Many a moons, curled up in the woods,
Blemish of wounds, gifted by my wobbly thoughts,
Ghost of my past, is what i always fought.

A step to be taken, pulled and stopped by the chains,
Chains of melancholy, a puppeteer's dance,
Leisurely moving away, a heartfelt scream.
Forward to my freedom? No! Deep into my sorrow it seems.

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A person, A soul, frightened by the dark was he,
Scarred by the unfeeling beings,
Now seeks the darkened alley, to find the perceivable peace,
To cry, to weep, to vanish, and to sleep.

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