From dusk till dawn
In the far skies of smog
Hushed under the carpet of snow
Listening to the lullaby of stars
A young damsel cries
Searching for respite
From the harsh clutches of Society
And her turbulent past
Her gaze rests on the farthest light
On the northest bright
In the meditative state she utters
After all that ruining abuse
I have been dead a hundred times
With the touch of your Love
O my Sweetheart
I thank my stars, I am still alive
I must have turned into a Phoenix
Who has arisen from her own Ashes
© Neeloo Neelpari
Oct 7, 2018
Oct 7, 2018 at 2:41 PM UTC
From dusk till dawn
In the far skies of smog
Hushed under the carpet of snow
Listening to the lullaby of stars
A young damsel cries
Searching for respite
From the harsh clutches of Society
And her turbulent past
Her gaze rests on the farthest light
On the northest bright
In the meditative state she utters
After all that ruining abuse
I have been dead a hundred times
With the touch of your Love
O my Sweetheart
I thank my stars, I am still alive
I must have turned into a Phoenix
Who has arisen from her own Ashes
© Neeloo Neelpari
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