Beneath The Palm Of The Night Poem by krishna ghimire

Come, my Grandson, beneath the palms of the night,
Lie down under its tranquil lucid,
And rest your stress and discontent here,
To fight tomorrow with the pitiless autism again!

All day long you suffer while you struggle with fate's battle,
and I helplessly sit by you, with my sighs and sobs,
Now come beneath the serenity of this night,
Its magic will heal your over sensory burden in a while.

Come into the sphere of this night, into its blissful rim,
O my grandson, here is its bed dotted at ease,
Lay down on its pillow your over sensory head,
Even without your words, it knows your unseen pain,

My grandson, come to the refuge of this night's stairs,
I have lit the candle of my eyes into its elegant foyers,
My stirring eyelids will bring soon your sweet dream,
And drive away all your nightmares and impediments.