#WritcoPoemPrompt120
The wind carried words through the sky that blew thee,
Lying on a velvet swing,
Swinging under a tree,
Whilst waiting for the King,

The wind carried words through the sky that blew thee,
Lying on a velvet swing,
Swinging under a tree,
Whilst waiting for the King,
to show mercy and let the burden free;
from every bondage that held it down.
The cages that suffocated,
of the sheer apathy they wore as crown,
restlessness of outgrowing the old self,
dirty shield covered with hatred thrown.
Dissapointment and unluck gratitude,
that was attracting pain to his palace,
so it was time to climb up the altitude.
Shook the mountains to release the breeze,
and release the sigh in solitude.
The rules were meant to be unruled,
for what a dynasty you'll leave behind,
with no war and thresh feuled,
the pinch of salt was part of recipe,
since artists were self muled.

© bhavya_sheisvintage