Coming My Way

Around
A silence of the moment; a silence of the sound
Its a pack; a pack of headless hounds
No barriers, no rules to be found
What would I have to cling to; so high
As the depth of the night would swallow their sight
I hope they are not coming my way,
With no remorse,
How do I have to be under such strain, everyday.

This is not so becoming
But what comes, is fire, fire in my mind
To burn down a virtue, so true.
Its beasts, what I try to become.
Altering heart, changing life for the last
A new beginning, from the barbed wire window

But; I am who I am, what I am.

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com