I smell the death, I feel
the cold touch of death.
It whispering all the night.
I frightened.
All the day I thinking about
the path I left for ever.
Look back what I gained,
what I lost.
One day I heard the truth
my days has come to end.
Sleeping in the city
where there is no room,
I unconscious.
It was a deep conspiracy,
I know no young and
elderly survivors left
to get revenge.
With more than broken
dreams head destination.
In fact, no wings I have,
frustrated at every step.
I expected to bind
to the old ways,
Rebellion into the world,
the only system to escape.
The tragic destruction of a part
of my success is a proud sacrifice.
Now I know all things
about the glorious death
** Sources of images used in this post: image1, image2
I just share this poem here which was published six months ago in my blog.