With no strength to fight;
no will to live;
she woke up with great fright;
striving a bridle-path towards great divide.
Trembling with dread,
eyes bowling with reminiscing the grievious act;
face full of repentance;
criticizing her way of tact,
soundlessness or peacfulness u say?
brutal than satan's mind they played;
blood and blood only blood was there;
and a pinch of lamenting was drazzelled everywhere.
was this kept to be secret ?
a twist on the path, striving with full contentment;
lying there with a will of freed ;
this should be only between us,they leered with greet
~ poetic priti