Flesh pressed is joy's delight
in face of lonely plight
connection deciding the outcome
beyond existence of the norm
the drudge of simple amusements pale
against the drink of delights gained
enough to fill eternity
expired in minutes with none to blame
all too transient against the thorns
thickets journeyed to explore
seeking methods to indulge
another congress for the cause
the actual nature matters not
except to scratch the loneliness
provide the light to a torch
burning at the merest touch.
© 2020. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved.20200131.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A well written perceptive poem.....10++++