a green with yellow touch
and grain of sand
and your choice to put salt
with that content
makes my pulse heat with
hot sovereignty
mixing co-agent the cup of
cacophonic chaos which lumpen
bothers not
favors my devil swim
stars are still young to receive
cry from earth
sanctity of frogs own regime
never could be blamed
since our pleasing moments
quiet esteemed and
limitless hollowness
about to be decided
whether the camps on the surface
would last long or
debris for another dawn
wait for future to be become!
Pranab k c
16/08/2016
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem