A SINK TO DRAIN

He takes the solitary path to the wood,

Deep in his mind, his chances he does brood,

The forest sleeps peacefully infront,

He can retrace his steps back, but he won’t.

Hurt he is, deep in love, but he is a quick learner,

He has put all his sorrows in the after-burner,

A fresh start to life is all that he seeks,

His mind seems to think normally after weeks.

The moon is shining like a white pearl,

Like a handsome bloke with many a curl,

The paths are all creamy white,

Grass is smelling sweet and his mood is bright.

The silence of the forest lures him,

The scent of nature is like a dream,

His sorrows seem to vanish in an instant,

When the busy canopy is spread over him.