He seems to dwell a heart, cold as ice,
With eyes as stones, can't exhibit what's inside,

But at heart brewing, warmth resides,
Those bright eyes, no one to confide,

Wilted edges, mournings he survived,
Thrashing arrows, his soul abides,

A happy_valley with morbidity collides,
Even with a will, to see the bright,

Eventually gathered by the love of his life,
Who gifts him feathers, soar to cosmic heights...



© umama^