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Not a Bed of Roses


The shameless wind is smiling tonight.
The sinister moon is winking at this sight
Of a fatigued soldier of life.

He cannot fight another fight
Even when nothing’s alright.
‘Coz that’s how it’s always been.

Lying on the grass,
Dreaming of a long lost lass,
He is immune to pains.

Bitten by the cold dew,
With moments only few,
He is waiting for the end.

Nature will have its fill,
Fate will have its will
And his share will remain denied...

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