diaphanous grief is reflected in his eyes
a basilisk with fangs aimed at the void
living a life of doubts and fears and lies
he will stop at nothing for vengeance: be shaken, be awed!
a doggerel inhibits his whole system
the gleam in his eyes cannot be imbibed
the bird of passage focused on the dictum
he is still the fittest; he will survive
but then quiescence took over, and alas
stillness overwhelmed-- the lion laid with the lamb
tears of a phoenix in his heart had passed
requiescat in pace: he was left numb
the grief was gone, he was a gypsy no more
but then his journey ended-- what more could he ask for?
(this is my own story.. thank you my phoenix for saving me..)
