This is the moment of supernaturalism
When we bury the sun under Mariana Trench,
Slaying him into pale pieces.
Or we lit up the moon on the forehead of dawn.
This is the moment of supreme joy
When we swing like little children
From the colourful bough of imagination.
Life starts flowing like a translucent holy river,
Where we wash hands for writing
The eternal words of our rain-soaked hearts.
This is when impeccable poems take birth.
Writing poetry gives us delight and gives us wings of imagination! A great poem on poetry!
Moments of the supreme joy of life! With the muse of sweet love. Nice work.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Beautifully written and true But for some like me I still need my coffee Thanks-10