The tree that lives on

A sea of surge and currents
An epiphany of dreams
As calm as the mystic moon at night
My freedom struggles inspite,
The road is filled with love and despair
Laugh at those who are pansy beneath
Whilst parading their nonchalant might,
A tall man’s shortcomings,
Are a small man’s virtue,
For it is when we crawl
That the test of time dawns on us all,

Behold, the midnight lamp,
Shining into the dark hearts of some,
Do you like misery my friend?
Do you feed off what you dwell with?
Take it all, take it all,
For you, it is free,
For any man so pompous with the greed for sorrow,
Is nothing but a bark, empty and hollow,
One day, it will wither;
Until that day, persevere,

With what strengths you pull,
All hail the man, who pulls nothing but air,
For all those moments where whispering souls,
Whimper to get poisoned to wake up in the morn,
Wondering, are all the ghosts gone?
The reflection pulls you in,
No memory of the lark,
No joy of smiling into a reflection,
Vexed and effete,

Fear not little bird,
For broken wings mend, as hearts do,
Feathers will grow back, as your will to survive,
For sorrow goes hand in hand with joy,
You are in between, keep looking on,
Frowning rejoice,

Roy

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