Garden of Salvation: Poem

As I lay down with the evening roses,Bitter memories make even thorns banal.Some pricked me pretty deep,Reckoned it to be petty tricks.Wounds afresh, never healed,Eons seems to be recalled.Scarlett honey flowing flawlessly,Is it the eternal ecstasy or misery?I’m ready to bathe in my blood,The nectar of my unfruitful deeds. As I look around with hopeful

MY STORY!

When I look back at life, I can picture myself as a shy and less confident girl; who got herself embarrassed in front of the whole school assembly; who trembled with fear in front of a crowd; who always hid behind her barriers waiting for the odds. But I drove myself forward to come out