Towards the Light

The wheel, continuously spinning;
As the time is gradually passing by…
Indulging in the drowsiness,
Will tackle, anytime soon; won’t stop the try…

There was a time her torments were spacious,
Tears were leaving scars behind, making her frail.

Soft cheeks were getting rougher,
Just like the desert seeks for rain…

This time, this very time is indeed so precious,
And the wounded bird won’t waste her tear again.

© AlvnaKarim

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