Poems
Warrior
Coming home from the place of despair.
Running out of the zone of temper.
Rain and shine would not relent:
their usual combat to just persist
The pain was far above the gain
But then I raised my face above
I faced my fears, hence I rose
I grabbed its horns: I mean the bull
I sent a knock within its spine
I broke the heed that held their heels
They have their peace, and I, my rest.