Killer bees swarm as would
A pack of hungry wolves, their
Beady blue eyes fixed upon my countenance,
I escape into frenzy.
My spirit, stolen and carried away by
An evil cyclone
My mind becomes the literature of the public-
-The pilferers of my thoughts.
My fantasies of sainthood,
None but idle reverie,
I climb that golden staircase to heaven
To meet face to face with God,
I hear the pounding of
Heavy footsteps that follow me-
The sun hides its face behind a cloud.
Although
I never believed in the solar eclipse-
Dream on; dream on….
I believe I heard the angels calling…
You're painting insanity in an amazing way, where it looks better than the sanity, good write indeed!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
hey........thats very very good.... and i so second ejaz khan.... u went through the words with an awesome paint brush, , , , just amazing cheers