Morning sun is like a warm hug in this cold weather,
A cup of coffee is not enough anymore,
To mellow this angst-filled(distressed) soul,
Trembling hands try to find something to hold on to,
Dithered, it misses support and falls into quicksand
Still tarried the heart believes…
…
In worry of future it still does not forget.
Archaic, tired limbs carry the reverie
Pushover but not one to give up,
It cannot help ; the promise is made and hope tethered,
Don’t be burdened weary knight,
Even if the trigger pulls I’ll be waiting at start,
In the darkest night waiting for brightest star,
Tarried the heart still believes.
An Indian Princess 