Poetry

Poetry

Rewarded with flowers

I wander in a forest, 

With nothing on mind, 

A blind man’s stroll, 

finding a reason to battle.

To go at war everyday is not an easy task,

Giving up on dreams and comfort,

I come to the wilderness of the forest,

To search for darkness,

May some bitterness sting me,

Force me to go to war. 

Yet all I find is peace, 

In the so called wild, 

Where did all the savagery go when I needed it the most?

I begged the bees to give me a reason,

And so on I begged, 

But my prayers went in vain,

All rewarded with flowers. 

I finally sat down near the shore,

Grieving my failure, 

For everywhere I looked all I could see was light. 



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