Misty Cloudy Poem by Aftab Alam
Misty Cloudy
I am dust on wheel, with greatest zeal
In Potter's hand and the turning wheel,
He's Giving me a shape with feathered cap,
Tired I am; where are my slumbers lap?
Am I a puppet of my dreamy fleeting fate?
Or am I something else that knew not yet
How long the wheel will be wheeling, circling, killing my dream. My dreams kill me
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4/18/2024 8:03:19 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Wheel and fortune move in cycle. Life trembles in between hope, joy and grief. Wonderfully penned poem shared on. Nicely penned.