Birth of an Angel...
one another budding imagination in phantom,
unknowing... she bought when vulnerable
watered the tiny seeds in random;
and let them lead her far from viable....
now she stands
bleeding and hurt,
torn in silence, angst and regret,
on which hook of the median
could she now hang her blame?
from the hurt will to realise an empty all of a sudden,
grew an angel out of silent shame.
~Sunil Emjay~