They thumped fiercely at the door,
That power, a contrast to their weak voice.
The voice of requesting me to ajar the door
Inside was I, in a Maslin of thoughts.
I heard two voices, one was rock,
and the other, a feather.
The rock reminisced me my failure, my defeat,
the feather schlepped my parents’ pleads but
the rock bullied me, compelled me,
As I went breathless, bereft of life.
