• arti_agr11 5w

    No More Dream

    Roundabouts, whereabouts,
    Dumbfounded with doubts
    Yet stern and stout
    My mind being a mystic place,
    I had no way out.
    Amongst the silence was a cacophonical shout
    Thoughts haphazardly taking the wrong routes
    Trying to figure out a perfect layout
    I dribbled forward as if a scout
    Relentlessly surging my speed throughout
    But then there it was -
    The whistle for the Final Timeout
    Little did I envisage
    That it was all just a silhouette:
    Of an immortal intimidating past breakout.