Towards the Dawn..

Towards the Dawn

Where flowers bloom in bones of dead

A dark faced lord walks up the hill

On a narrow path that looks like a scar

On a misty heaven, somber and still.

Far away hangs the unripe sun

Somewhere in valley a rivulet moans

With damp hair and weakening knees

This stately stranger walks alone.

Heavy eyelids with tears impearled,

And a heart heavier like a severed limb..

But yet not dead, still bleeding love

For the enchantress who undid him.

How paths undulated, how destinies interlocked

How calmly he weathered each fierce storm

So today let winds hush….. to let him pass

Through cold blind agony…towards the dawn.