My living self is a shadow of my past
Where I had seen many dead bodies
Of my dreams and hope
And my present is forced
to follow those ghosts
to the wonderful landscape of memories
there they host me so well
that I frequently lose the track
of come back to live at my present
Our memories seem to shape our life in the present. A lovely poem Abdul.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Sometimes we are transported to the past and relive the event. Such moments are so vivid that we feel to be lost there. nice write