Alone
It was four years ago When home they brought my warrior dead. Those images are still vivid, I can't get them out of my head. He had gone walking on twos But came back in a coffin. Till the time 'Black Box' was opened I didn't know what was in. Broken bones but unscathed face Within a mummified body. I had wished for it to be a dream But it was a reality. People say I've come off it To some extent I agree. Yet to be honest deep within I know I have lost 'Me'. There are times when I turn Into a rebel, defiant and strong. Yet somewhere in the corner of my mind I end up feeling I am wrong. What do I really have in my life Except memories and endless pain? Many a times I get this thought I would never be able to live again. Hope surfaces now and then I'm an optimist at heart. I try to see things positively But that's truly not a start. Shattered dreams and a broken heart Is al