Grave of the Dead
By Kalyani Rajalingham
Like a rose in the mire, bereft of courage to spare,
Let men bemoan their inhumanly ways,
Let them be victims of their proper malice,
For gold has the power to crush mighty pillars,
And in the hands of greed’s bloody ways,
Lets grass grow over graves of follies past,
To entomb the privilege of unyielding remorse,
Why, the world’s a beautiful persecution,
None may defy its moated dominion,
But the raging fire always sheds a dropp of water,
To let the pillars built by sin,
Fall by virtue amongst deepest furrow.
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Wow! what an idea ! What a concept ! Beautiful .. Amazing
I really love your creativity!
Keep it up!