A Promise’s Remedy
A. D. Konwar
Estranged sounds escape your dry lips,
Words fall out of your petty mouth;
Lake placid or like the turbulent waves they shout,
Oh, you vow or make quaint promises:
Keeping them is when your resolve shakes.
On the spur of the moment, they often come out
While some are what you’re truly about;
The aftermath, however, fathoms no change.
The dilemma of course is should you break’em
When the old wounds stop to bleed
Or should you hold on to your words
Only for the vanity of being at virtue’s helm?
The remedy to which I could not knead;
I’ve been slashed by both the swords.
Thanks for Reading. This post is in response to The Daily Post’s prompt ‘Promises’.