Lost souls, young minds,All dancing to the rhythm divine;
Somewhere amidst them sat a girl,
A girl - with some stories so fine -
All gathered in a book - she'd kept in her bag,
So tattered and torn - it looked like a rag.
She didn’t know what to do,
how she’d fight,
So she drank heavily that night!
With the bar attendant serving her with as much of pride,
As he'd taken to make her the drink - "The Tough Ride".
She knew not where she would go,
Or even where she was heading,
As her body just revolved as if it was shedding.
Yet, she drank,drank-
not once nor twice but many a times,
All of this...
just to see how much she could handle,
Until the darkness was paid heed to by the flickering candle....
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