Sad chronicals

Mine is a sad heart to pour out

Concussion made of grief and bitter
A Seidel poured full for a toss to myself;
Neither chears and nor shout outs

Only tears from a wounded heart flows

chronicals of love lost
Despondence from a unlucky charmer

A fighter who never fought 

All he ever held was a handful of sand
That simply slipped and spilled of the grip
Thr countenance of a knight he  surfaced. 

Crad in a bracing of shear bravado
Good enough to conceal a weak spirit 

Dangling on the feeble hook of hope
Happy ever afters stuck in the twists of fate
Yet I believe. 

Like a gambler betting on a darkhorse

At one time the odds will favor


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