Photo Credit: Aastha Bansal
He stood with confidence,
Even when others see him,
As a man with no sense:
He smiles, sometimes befriends,
Those who are wise and unwise,
And lack credence: in his poetic way,
The battlefield is to conquer and protect;
His own — silently yet patiently,
He waits for his precious and dearest,
Cherished friend: Structure and prayer,
Is his spiritual food of the day,
And he is a man that does not,
Take on foolishness, even when things,
Becomes hard, his beloved, has his heart:
He is a Prince always on guard every minute,
Second and hour of the day.
Empress Journee
