For every love lost the maiden's heart sinks
And with each, the love-lorn maiden thinks
That life is no longer a bed of roses
No beauty that lines her beau's sweet proses
Each stanza, every careful word that she'd read
Lies scattered like a bundle of broken worn out thread
That would never rebind the promises he couldn't keep
Leaving her in solitude to moan and weep
But the maiden hangs on tight a grip in her mind
Grieves not for too long, sets out to find
The purpose of her being in this uncompromising land
Hearts that change swifter than shifting desert sand
Her strength will carry her through this world so grim
Determines to grieve not for any mortal's fancy or whim
Begone thou hollow eyed being with the sickle
I shall not give up my life for something so fickle
She's one tough Iron-Maiden !
ReplyDeleteGood one , Mr.Teh !
Thanks folks...
ReplyDeletebut I think it's too clinical and stiff. still have a long way to go in this area...
Thank you for watching my back. I'm gonna print this and stick it to the wall.
ReplyDeleteYou're welcome. That's what friends are for. There are even bigger issues we are sticking our necks out for.
ReplyDeleteNo matter how small a part we play, even if it's just moral support, we are helping to watch the back of this chap and this chap
My simple philosophy: If I can make someone feel better today I'd have fulfilled my obligation to live happily for another day.