Though as cowardly as it seems.
A man detested from past, neglectance.

Deters the compass....

Where joy's dispair collides at ease
Among this broken fleece.

Shattered dreams foretold
From days of old.

Delusions Fated slip softly
Out his reach.

Acquired, no challenge
Falsely resembling a
humble redemption.

Regardless distorting thee image
Forever bonding the vision of Death's own incision.

It's malice, It's meek,
The power it Speaks.
Tormenting this coward,
Internal he weeps.

Rejected and Beaten..

No gleam to find hope in
Enclaved by defeat.

Crippled, defeated mortality
Enough is enough.

Seldom an action,
Where cowards acheive.

Trial by fire required for freedom,
Allowing re-birth. Thus reversing The curse.

No longer the coward,
Forgiven made new.
Any aspect of life,
Can be entrusted to you...

Seldom An Action
A Coward Achieves....

© Aziah In Thought