Trauma leads to change,
Recent filthy range.
That gentle gaze less gazing,
Evolved into gaming.
I’m not as you are,
No matter how close,
Will find me far.
The only way to me,
Is the child inside of thee,
To come of a age and set me free,
To restrain myself from evil spree
My roots smells like sandal tree.

The aroma itself is the evidence
Of my lonely & sour existence
What should I do ?
Persistent
To my beliefs and visionary extent.