Born on a blue moon at midnight,
With soul in the body confined.
Clenched fists, dreamy eyes
and a silver line.
Nothing is yet planned,
yet perfect and pure.
But not for a long while,
that I am sure.
In a world that's fraught,
he is a pure thought.
An innocent fool to not realise
that he's already been caught.
He waits, till they make him,
what they need him to be.
Another fish in the dead sea,
with a bachelor's degree.
With time, he learnt a few things,
about this world and its working.
Yet regretfully,
he abides by the pulling strings
and simply, slavishly blames destiny.
At last,
concerned about the human life,
and its brevity.
Longing for his true identity,
Seeking his world breathlessly,
where he belongs desperately.
Takes a leap of faith,
with those dreamy eyes,
clenched fists.
Thus, a reclamating bathe.
He had it in him all this while.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem