In the depth of thoughts
When the mind wickers
Tiptoeing the skulking night...
Worry oozing
Enshrouding hanging hopes
The night I oft loathe
Her fingers crawls down the soul
Dragging to surface-
As heart bears the weight-
The affair with the Day
And her endless wails
She'd seldom show remorse
To soothe a wrong turn
Luck with trial is entwined
The lasse never fail to try
We'd walk on and on
Rummaging corners of labour
Sowing trial in its paradoxical soil
Tiling its arduosness
A showcase of chance
Laid off facet of degree
Such as earned from jaws of despair
Years of dry and wet alike
An Engineer hurled in totality
'Nothing but an echo across labour-hills,
Soon to be thrown to naught,
We could've had fun when you studied,
Yet you shunned my care,
Waxed away our moments.
While day suffered not your contempt'.
The night barely fail in derision
Eventhough the mind seldom frail
Alive with the hope born of each day
A balm of faith to my tattered feet.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
wow this is grt i hope i could one day pen something like this hopefully you're going to help me out