No song, no triumphs are good
For the soul alone weeps
And smiles of gentle beauty
No longer glow.
The highest crest
Have I fallen from
Even though it is yesterday
I still have wronged.
Thoughts often charred
Crisis often unheard
Because
Love not forgotten
But sense indeed.
Quite far, quite bizarre
For always knowing
And yet doubting
The only chance.
Who's pleased ?
Or perhaps not
Truth alone
Saw and laughed.
That moment
And now
Has caused
Revolution of the mind.
P.S-to be completed later.
