Scion

Searched for light in a dungeon

Startled by the presence of a scion.

My scion is not from nobility

Not born or brought up in aristocracy.

Has the qualities of a warrior

Decided to be always a Savior.

Followed instincts till the last breath

Left traces & marks after death.

These marks are my memories

These traces are my treasuries.

I’ve worn them as shining amulets

That makes me flow like rivulets.

I do not have a portrait of yours

To show to the world that clears

The myth that you are imaginary

You are a grand scion & a legendary

I’m an amateur who cannot paint your glory

Nor can I showcase or portray your story.

Yet, I know the truth that you are there

You could quench the thirst of my quest in this fair.

Blessed is the soul who could accompany you

As in your presence everything presents in a new view

On one fine day this numbness turns to sensations

The mystery shall be beyond any language’s depictions.

Till that moment carefully wrapped in the deepest

Of my memories, you shall stay in my heart’s divine closet.

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