Silent Braveheart Poem by Devrim Kande

Talking to a braveheat its 1: 30am, silent monday morning, she shot to fame in my heart and brain..

Is it a foolish flirt or a senseless fling, in any case, rapidly finding its way to the dephs of my pain.

Seldom is such a cure used as treatment, as it can turn into a hurricane...

Fate is the real illness, as i contemplete a sway, a permanent detour is perhaps the way....

Silent braveheart fell a sleep its late, reset the mind, a new world start today....