All nights are dead
Nothing is well read
Sad memories do emerge
With advancement of an age
I keep guessing
And missing
Certain aspects
In reality, I fail to act
Day is passing with hard work
But in night I miss good words
That were heard when she was around
I have missed her a lot since she has remained underground
I keep staring at roof
It needs no proof
I try to count stars
Even though they are very far
I have only one way left
I have to shift
To another place where memories shall not hunt
I have borne enough of brunt
I have only one way left I have to shift To another place where memories shall not hunt I have borne enough of brunt
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I can tell you really loved them. A heartfelt poem hasmukh. 6 hours ago by Ken.. to Enough of brun