The Orphan
Hopeless and battered a tear is shred
A pierce deeper than a coal bath in a furnace as settled in mourns of grief
Upon a time in a destitute;
The dreams and hope of the yesteryears has the vacuum swell
None a friend, though an embrace a warm bath to freshen the disquiet and throe;
A smooching is all but a tickle
Far from reality,
The fermented tomb crisps the dear whom
Our heart held in esteem not to cleanse like decay
It stinks!
To the dear soul none rather than an adventure in long
At the perks of expectations a heart thought to pummel and a soul comforted
Night dime shall scare for a candle lite in find---
And more thousand tears rolled in scripts for ceaseless winds of the memorials to carry along
Either sought Shan`t breathe the gone a life
To stray our hallucination.
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