Often the dusk of despairΒ
Creeps into my lifeΒ
Carrying the fragments of my fragile heart,Β
The heart, that passes each day building itself up,Β
from all the insecurities,Β
Yet, at the fall of dusk, it falls apart;
Every Morning I live many lives,Β
And die many deaths every night,Β
The Zealous heart, that once carried all the curiosities,Β
To it, now, nothing excites;
Holding to the hopes though I breathe again,Β
But, how can a broken heart,Β
Pump life in all that is dead within;
Maybe, my heart, needs to ask the trees,Β
How they go through the autumn fall,Β
How they shed all their leaves and still stand tall ?!
How they still love to dance in the breeze ?!
The breeze, that often tries to uproot them, at ease !!
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