The scars embedded were deep
Muddled were the thoughts
Often wondered, how she got in
Into this ruthless rot
Consumed by melancholy
Introspecting this unfathomable fall
Straying in a frenzy that was deep
What Razia did, was weep
For all that was held dear, was bid adieu
In an effort to start anew
Seeking harmony, counting sheep
Little old Razia fell asleep
As the days fled
What grew was distress
She traded all that she was
For this pricey prince called peace
The middle path was steep
Adorned with thorn-like-freaks
Keeping herself at bay
Seldom bothering about the other monster
Razia limped forward with dismay
She leaned towards this peculiar light
That set her mighty soul ablaze
Alas her inner fire uplifted her
from this golden massacre
from this golden massacre
Peace peace peace
That's all she wanted to seek
She traded off her gold
For a stone, deep down
As she was, the peace warrior
Thus marks the end of the silent protest
Her only hope now, was to see
The light at the end of the tunnel
An extension :
Razia, the peace warrior is someone who fights for peace, not someone who fights peacefully. A concoction of a myriad of upheavals lies within Razia. Comprehended by none, Razias' was a solo fight, a soul that was in plight.
Nice one girl :). Your way of saying things has been always unique. Although, not a fan of this genre of writing, I enjoyed this post.
ReplyDeleteAnd as always DM rocks :D
Thanks a lot! :) Well, what can I say! I'm trying out all kinds of genres to bring in some versatility! ;)
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