Sinashta, Sidra

Sinashta, Sidra Poems

I. Doomed to Demise

Among all the dreadful thoughts,
And in all the battlefields that you've fought,

What's happened to you, my dear?
You seem wounded, whom did you defend?
Time's up, but, you don't seem to fear.
There're cracks and aches, which I think I can mend.

May I ask somthing?
Something I wanted to ask long ago.
Will I keep burning,
For the warmth of another's heart glow?

We have never known,
At the darkest nights.
That nobody's shown,
In the hardest fights.

Here comes the end, my dear sun, 1-
Your flaring lights are dimmed away,
Yet, your loving moon shall tonight stay,
And I shall on that velvet lawn lay,

The Best Poem Of Sinashta, Sidra

The Granted Sanctuary

I. Doomed to Demise

Among all the dreadful thoughts,
And in all the battlefields that you've fought,
All the apprehensions that have sought
To turn all your might into nought.

There's always been a determined voice,
To flee to nowhere and to rejoice,
To purge any claw stained with gore,
To be released and sat by the shore.

Although embraced by guiltiness spot
That always tries to extinguish your candle,
Whether you yearn for departing or not,
There will be a burden, you may not handle.

II. Season of Departure

Every soul of ours is gotten an enormous mess,
And in odd and obsolete things, we find impression,
An amount of exultations, we can scarcely express,
But, to rely it on someone, might be a loss confession.

And every weary heart thought the world is pure,
And just ere the brutal collapse, it did endure.
Just to be finally isolated, and nothing can ever cure.
Joy, comfort and passion, all, people will immure.

O dismayed spirit, grab your weapons and leave.
Get courage, be such tough, whom else you're a savior?
Or do you want fierce faces to cut all your leaves?
Prepare your armour, and in your own war, be a warrior.

III. Hap

And should you make solitude your ally.
But, don't worry, to your ease, it'll make you fly.
A fragrant place, like an old memory you used to keep.
And deep inside your guts, colourful roses will creep.

When all the noiselessness is what you require.
Where always will be rain to stop the fire
And anything that contains art, you admire.
Where a separated castle is all you desire.

Didn't you know what forgetting could preclude?
A miserable living, a presenting past and a gory mind.
Forgive your voices, and bring them gratitude.
Maybe, someday, will grow a spirit different of its kind.

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