In the solitude
planted a seed of hope
desiring a plant of joy.
Inside the depth of heart
something disturbing
unknown to the mind
invincible as well,
here,
the plan for life
to walk ahead
remains motionless and still.
Can i name the little disturbance
as Depression
or flowers of soft feelings
full of fragrance of never ending dream
a mirage
a painting that can never be perfect
and
pursuing this
soul will take rest? ? ?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem