Come then, Victory.
This lady has done with Darkness.
This day
Is too full of sadness.
But the war rages on,

              She has no control.
              It isn't as she wishes.

"Come then.", saith the night,
"Take up this shroud of blackness."

                           She does its bidding.

"Come then.", saith blackest night.
"I am the Harness."

                           She cloaks herself once more...


         It is not what she wishes,
         The war rages on.

love's tempestunrequited love

◄ A Spark Of Words

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Aviva Rifka Bhandari

Wed 21st Apr 2021 19:38

Thank you Ghazala for commenting. I appreciate you hoping for her. 💕

Looking back at the situation: It wasn't the final battle, and with better allies she would next time succeed.

Thanks also to everyone who has clicked 'Like' for this poem 💐

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Ghazala lari

Wed 21st Apr 2021 09:40

Heartbreaking sad. Wish her lady luck🌷

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