Few pages of life, that remained unturned...
belonging to a diary, which was never burnt...
the pages of the diary, which was almost banal...
and with the passage of time, it was left to curl...
words created in past, that is now unclear...
reminiscence of someone, who was then very dear...
few illegible words, which was for someone certain...
but with the sands of time, has been engraved in sultry curtain...
the face of the deity whom, is sure etched in my mind...
but just can't recognize, the shape of her kind...
the pain irresistible, which was enkindled within...
for it is hard to bear, her loss from my heart therein...
beholding my feelings, which have now turned stagnant...
wish i could ever find out, who that someone was i meant...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem