Inspite of bright lights
Man runs and runs
In the darkness
Without knowing
The beginning
And his final access
The dark fearful clouds
Like the shrouds
Covered his holy soul
Heading him towards
The sinful hellish hole
His soul
The part of the Almighty
Has become dirty
By the dust of
Hate dusty dunes
And the torturing evils
Hum death tunes
To lead his soul to ruins
The temptations
Around him
Are all sinuous drills
That make agonizing holes
Into the God gifted souls
The souls which are not
Our property
But a sincere duty
A pious treasure
Given by the Lord
To keep for some time
We have to return it back
To our Father
But we never bother
Ourselves
To preserve its dignity
And honour
The more dirt we put
On our innocent soul
The more repentance
We have to make
For the sake of its purity
So let’s start now
The sooner, the better
To avoid hellish fire
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
wow fantastic poem! well written indeed