SHE
She rolledout from her comfortzone
Fighting the demons of her own
Yet through her broken soul ,
yearned for a four-walled hall.
A half-dead moon is whom she is,
merely an imposter amidst the folk.
Weeping for life all way round,
longing for bliss all beyond.
Wishin’ upon the shootin’ stars
only for a tranquil life !
“If I ain’t alive”,
longing darkness in her mind .
The question mark before herself,
doubting her own existence .
Maybe if her venture differ
her journey would’ve shone better.
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