lonesome soul

While crossing the path she realized
It wasn’t him, who she fantasized
She looked to the road, a hard concrete
As cold and firm as she perceived
Shadow of her was lagging behind
It was the crescent moon at night
Each one passing by her looked the same
It’s the shadow that she could only blame
Some eccentric obscure nameless faces
Tried to look into her wounded soul and bruises
Fear of getting cured rushed through her veins
Death seemed easy as a pretty acquaintance
And the endless sloppy road seemed just fine
Leaving the perpetual footprints far behind
It started to dawn, crescent moon was fading
Silhouette of her reclusive frame stopped crawling
Deeply perturbed of being affined
She found comfort in her lonesome life

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