Speak To Me
My sculptor diligently crafted me
For I am a recipient of his
Love, shining bright for all to see
And has given me a choice to kiss
That I shall take to seek my course
Though, the truth was planted in me
But my youth was brutally forced
To embrace things I should not be
Doing so, I conceded out of fear
To the burning stone of promises
Ruined myself for I didn’t hear
The final warning of the voices
Its fake brightness crippled endeavour
Moaning in solitude for I lost the trust
‘Cos I did not hold firm to the fervour
In vain, my life I unwillingly entrust
Now, I’m seeking his loving-kindness
Calling only in his name again and again
Let not impatience once more repress....
Begging him to recreate me, to ease the pain
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