It was long, before I realized,
that innocence, was lost.
Was long, before I knew,
that I, was the cost.

Still time, before the night,
of this winter, to end.
It’s long, before my road,
would seize, to bend.

It was long, before the cold,
took away, my breath.
Was long, before I stood,
glaring, at my death.

It was long, before my body,
had stopped, to shiver.
I was the arrow, in my heart,
torn apart, from my quiver.

And the blood,
of the star,
that bathes me today.

Washed, are the sins,
of the strong.
and the frail.

I’m cold,
in the cold wind of desire.
I’m the impurity,
that was burned in my fire.

By: Viraj Belgaonkar