A Short Story of A Winged Emo

There was a time, a guy,
With sadness upon his face,
Knowing nothing to do about,
Crawling all alone,
From the deepest part of his memory,
                Whispers were all the friends he got,
                The echoes of his voice were resounding,
                If it wasn’t for the light that showed him the way,
                He would never care as the time just passed by
Another time wasted,
Ceiling, wall, even the doorknob, were the only objects,
He could find to stare at blankly
The beautiful panorama was isolated,
Under the cover of his society
                Coincidentally or not,
                He discovered a kind of dream he ever wanted
                Lurking through the only window he had,
                Somehow he found somebody inspiring,
He turned his way back,
From walking stranded to looking up high,
He soon discovered a pair of wings in his thought,
That could fly him high through all the cloudy space he had,
               Nobody saw him, nobody cared,
               He just got higher and higher with nobody knowing,
               The wings called music had led him up,
               Onto the biggest imagination he ever had,
A paper struck him, a guitar he afforded,
Just to make his dream come true,
Whenever the right time come,
He’d be ready to stand up high on the highest peak we’d ever see
~Yoga Pramartha