You, the Shamrock of My Dreams

Did you call out to me once?

When the hollow world was filled with beauty,

Often times when you think of beauty, it makes shamrocks of your dreams!

I stepped on stone as I was walking on a rugged tarmac,

It tore at the sole of my feet…

I looked at the tiny spots of blood that tainted the path I tread,

The rain might come and wash it away,

Whenever it thought fit…

The pain did numb, but then,

I was glad for the numb it caused…

In the plain rugged road,

By the side of the rugged tarmac,

I stole a glance to see the shamrock bloom so green,

It did take my thoughts of pain away.

I plucked a bunch, and smelled its freshness,

I nursed my wound with its gentle folding,

It was the balm, I had dreamt of once before.

My thoughts brought forth these words,

As the pain became bearable.

“Just as love is as fresh as spring,

Just as pain is a grudging conviction,

The truest form of all emotions,

Lies in the beauty that is found within the sentiments of freedom”