I lay benumbed
on a heap of hay,
beseeching the wilful wind
to take me away
Smothered by deception,
monuments of hope lay demolished
In a tired soul
awaiting resurrection
Will the grey skies begin to clear,
or will my woes
stay buried forever?
asks an unshed tear
Burdened by worry, i look up
At the sungrazed sky,
undeterred and blue,
waiting to gather hue