Expectations are the weeds,
In the garden of life.
It is the poisonous black widow.
It looks as small as a sand grain,
But will multiply like the locust.
When the number increases,
The fragile balance disturbed.
Leading to a volcano of emotions,
When it all ends, the ashes remains,
making it dull and filled with scars.
The garden will seem as a desert,
In spite the colorful flora and fauna.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Leading to a volcano of emotions, Right, interestingly penned/like it