**When Wings Burned Down**
*by Ruhool*

In valleys deep where shadows drown,
A boy once lived, his hopes cast down.
Bare feet tread paths through morning's dew,
Each frozen step, his sorrows grew.

From humble roots near Odina's gate,
With dreams in tow that couldn't wait.
He loved a Dove with silent fire,
But hid his heart, tamed his desire.

His love was Trust, his pockets poor,
Unspoken words, a silent war.
With each day passed, his chances dimmed,
To reveal his heart, on whimsy's whim.

Time flew by on ruthless wings,
And with its flight, it stole his dreams.
He conquered need, yet at what cost?
In wealth's embrace, his love was lost.

No longer does the young boy roam
With hollow cheeks near Dal Lake's foam.
His feet now shod in shoes of stone,
Through Mughal gardens, walks alone.

The poet's pen is his new sword,
His verses sharp, his chords struck chord.
In rhythm's beat and rhymes that rap,
He finds the peace that filled the gap.

But scars of yore still mark his soul,
From days he wandered, aims stole.
The poverty that shaped his mold
Left him in armor, fierce and cold.

No maiden's glance can thaw his frost,
For he's a fortress; love is lost.
No threats he fears, no tears he sheds,
His heart's a vault for unsaid threads.

Yet still he writes by mountain's edge,
A life rebuilt from broken pledge.
With every line, he hopes to find
The boy he was, once kind, now blind.

In Kashmir's arms, he bears his scars,
Under the watch of silent stars.
His journey long, a tale of flame,
Ruhool his shield, his newfound name.