The sun is burning hot killing my confidence,
i am running a long distance with a sword in hand,
roaring my cry again and again,
loud enough for my enemy to hear it,
to deafen the spirits in my enemy,
i see him, i run faster, get close to him,
i put my sword across his neck,
but all of a sudden blood pouring from my hands,
oh my god someone chopped my hand,
and before i get back my other hand goes,
i am hand less i am crying for help,
just come and save me,
i am dead this is the world i saw,
do i really need,
a walk with my enemy
kaushik.c
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
kaushik, really beautiful--so young but mature and intellilgent writes.+10 regards anjali