The Rotten Luck
Mountains I tread break to rubbles;
Arts I sculpture wane to scribbles;
The defiant paladin has effaced from presence
And a gruesome ghost is left behind;
God despises my very existence
Burning this life he once lent;
He blunt my sword and burnt my shield
But my feral heart will never yield.
Copyright © Linga Siva | Year Posted 2016
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