They say we live in tough times
They say men now run after miles of vanquish
Anchor with a hidden taste of lust
If Beauty was a nurse
And romance was a councilor
we would have amber the lucidity that made us men
Race above this staircase
Love is an opium
smoked in a blazing sun of lust
Never forget the tale of fools
The ordeal of fantasies
Racing through the felonies of hearts
If you see how men lay their beds
As though tomorrow is a hand-bugger
Averngful today came with a reward
A massive addy of a broken willow
As though he was bruised
Broken across the Golgotha of time
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem