Struggles and Judgement

What do you count on mostly
tears, pain or the blood?
I’ve cried with wolves, longed for a shoulder.
Carried pain, in the freshness of wild
I’ve stains of scarlet red,
they never fade- my hands drenched in streams
Tell me, what do you count on?
Some favourite stars, wandering in dark
the knots pulled low, as wishes flee the spell
the birds reaching the horizon, never finding a home.
I’ve lived them all, I’m of them
Tell me which fragment do you judge?
I am nothing, but a body of stories.



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