While I wait the patience’s limits,
While a paper blown in the air.
A color splashed in frenzy
For a method in madness.
Art is the limitless explosions
Expulsions of the conscious phenomenon.
Is being in limbo, such a deceitful act
Is fate looking to the skies or gazing the navel.
Beheaded, alas the head is in my hands
What a horrible dream is unto waking.
Had it not been so, it would have been
Rested on the knees, lost and bled.
Sadiqullah Khan
Islamabad
April 10,2013.
Stranger in Moscow: Michael Jackson
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem