She

She is no gypsy girl
to take me twril around
On a moonsoon afternoon
she would rather not promise
zillion of possibilities.

She is the mother to my son
His rock, my rock
Solid like words cannt capture
committed, hopeful, strenth giving.

She wouldnt question like burning ember
If I havent measured up
like a decision taken is not be questioned
ever again, to expose the wounds of doubt
unkept, unrealised promises.

If it makes me happy
liberty is mine to experience
not to be spyed
like slithering snail lost
in transit in the woods.

Vain, is my weakness
to look for addiction
in lanes narrow and serpentine
the bliss is at home
overlooked, taken for granted
value in something sin.

Heart quivering, future
untold, not guaranteed
steely resolve, backbone straightened
hope in heart, we walk
to the dawn.