She was on the edge of her emotion!
No; not in the well of a void!
But in the abyss of
the truth,
the love to creat
one!
There was always
an eternal yearning
like the bud
to flower on!
Like the seed
to spread her green!
Her eyes were in dream like every poet
with an ardent pen!
She lay etherized on the table
in labour!
In delivery pain!
Women are always
a puzzle in broken
pieces!
How you sustained
such a pain!
As i cried out
for the first oxygen?
when we tingle with emotion There was always an eternal yearning like the bud to flower on! Like the seed to spread her green!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nice poem. Really, we are nothing without our mother.