Poetry

Death, bow in awe, for Life has won the fight, Though you may claim a hold on fleeting breath, Yet

In realms where red tape weaves its binding net, And countless forms would cage the daring soul, There blooms a

In life’s grand play, we all must age, it’s true, But paths we choose define the roles we play. Shall

When I have journeyed to celestial heights, And left this realm of joy and mortal care, Shed not a tear