Where the angel voice gone? Who called my name once when i asleep
Where the feather fingers gone? Who tapped my shoulder twice when i got high
Where the king gone? Who played my name with cards when i was hidden inside
Where the golden girl gone? Who weaved my hair when i came from far
Where the sacred mist gone? When i walked through it in dark
Where the perfume gone? When i opened the closure
Where the moon gone? When dawn arose?
I avoid all things from now on
For
Death is the reward of experience
Where the moon gone? When dawn arose? ... in the midst's of awake we get all Questions.. we may rake our minds so much and even go grey with God we believe in! all Nature and natural! Thank you for sharing Poet! 10++! some innate talent here!
Death is the end point of the game of life for the particular individual. In a way it is the liberator and liberates the individual from the woos of living and struggle for existence. Nice write. Thanks for sharing.10 points.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
There are fourteen experiences in this stanza block (I counted them!) and every one is a fresh and original expression, like WHO CALLED MY NAME etc. Many are delightfully mysterious, like WHO PLAYED MY NAME WITH CARDS etc and WHERE (has) THE SACRED MIST GONE? Still others suggest the beginning of story like WHERE THE GOLDEN GIRL GONE? These tantalizing glimpses of such varied experiences makes me see you as a contemporary Scheherazade announcing your wondrous tales to be told.
First i thank you for reading my poem and leaving comment on it i really appreciate that. This poem is my most simple and non complicated poem. I believe death is reward of experience. Whatever we experience, dies soon after that and nothing remains forever.