loss

No pain, no gain

Eulogy to war, sarcasm to bane

Harmony of restless bastion

Fruitful vision double crossed by punctured mission

 

Ado,’ the taker’ reveals its praise adnauseam

A precious gift is kidnapped: heaven screams

The only light left is wane darkness

Greatest panic is over what next

 

What Sacred tomb built for atonement of sin?

Gone till December, wear off that grin

The soul still groping for its creator

Traveled afar with its detector

 

Sobs; these fruits completely left destitute

Sniffing and stealing; most yielding attitude

But if on that journey the creator you find?

PLEASE!!Deliver this text, a confirmation that we still suffer your loss.

 

Author's Note

uhm....