The Young Man
Centuries, maybe eons ago
A baby was born into the kingdom's ego
Hands rose to greet the young one with a cheer
As his smile quickened to appear
Welcoming him with warm tenders from all
Greeting him with blessed souls
Now a days the baby's a young man
With daughter and sons holding hands
Singing so gracefully and cheerfully
With the wind of freedom looking so peacefully
His wife is so beautiful and wise
For she is his light through twisted cries
She's always there beside him
She's his lantern awaiting to vanish the dim
But, a few days ago, the young man got injured
Resulting in a deep wound deep inside
Fright is that he might die
Whilst his kids and wife fight by his side
Yet, his wound bleeds so severely
With minutes he might pass away
Leaving his kids and wife stranded
On a lonely night's moonlight
The cure is being mixed
With hands so blessed
With hope as a main recipe used
To heal the pain of the wound
I know the young man so well and feel so sad for the loss of his strength
Yet, I shan't mention his name,
He's from the same country I come from;
From the same white, red, and green
But please do regain your strength...
Copyright © Sara Zahed | Year Posted 2008
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