There was something,
Something in my eyes, that did not die.
Closed in avalanches; but did not cry.
I wrote prose,
In the heart of the beast.
Hoping it adheres to the wisdom of a priest.
I created landscapes,
On every scary night.
Without armour, I dared to fight.
Given manipulations,
I responded with empathy.
Compassion was always a fantasy.
Watching malice,
In their heart and mind.
I chose to be unconquerable,
While being vulnerable and kind.
Did you choose trickery?
I chose bravery.
Did you choose duplicity?
I chose dignity.
I am a stream you cannot fetch.
I am a flame you cannot touch.
Credits
This poem was reviewed by Edlyn D'souza, proofread by Santhosh Annabattula, & photographed by Ravindra Patoju.
Product
This poem is available in paperback & ebook.
Your Opinion?
Excellent
Good
Average
Bad
Nice
The way the poem started, there was a slight deviation in the middle. But if seen according to the state of mind, then this is an advanced creation
I'm a flame you can't touch... Great Nidhi 👌
Good.....
From trickery to bravery and duplicity to dignity, the poem does have its moments but I think not all rises have a payoff like the prose, beast & priest. Its a wonderful start and hoping to read more soon!