The fleeting form of a young child’s smile, is an image that doesn’t just last for a while, it is what keeps one going through the common day bile,
It can brighten one’s day, make them understand it will turn out okay, that one should let things do as they may,
Protection for all, a verbal trap for which we all fall, it lures us as if it could have been our very mating call,
The sins of which we speak in books, are all but a shimmer of their actual looks,
Pain does remain, constables will prosecute in vain, and those memories have turned into a genuine bane,
Does man not desire to be seen as the best, to fight, cheat, bleed, and wit hall his might, create the world locked in his mind? And do children not seek this very same world? The one they create, a world full of dragons where they are the masters of their very own fate?
Do we not grow up to see, that that old world of glee, has ceased to be, or is that just me?
As that old devil draws near, there is nothing we fe