Tinted glass and fluorescent lights
Walls color of the rogue wine
Heart stumbled upon lay alone
In this gruesome scene of crime
You can wonder, you can suppose
But in your heart you will never know
A fable so old yet not sweet
A fair dream being redeemed
To cruel lust of which nobody knows
To callous greed that which inside grows
Like a vicious spine of vine
This story holds its thorns so fine
That has tore the soul and flesh of little boy
Still holding the memories of the past
Guarded by dark shadows holding him with a cast
The phantom of past is back again
Carrying the corpse of memories cradled in his hand
Where to run? Where to hide?
In the dark corner there is little plight
Mourning with sorrow is no choice
Praying for salvation is no choice
Mercy! Mercy! Can the torn heart cry?
While pulling a façade of ‘the defy’
An Indian Princess 